Operation Sea Dragon
by Ronin201
Summary: A young F-14 Tomcat pilot from Osea and his friends go to war over Belkan in 1995, dealing with both the BAF and the strain of being away from home. My first Ace Combat fanfic, written about a year ago. Contains OCs, fanon additions, and a few brief cameos by characters from Ace Combat Zero/5 The respective owners of this story's content (planes, people, etc) retain their rights
1. Prologue

_Prologue: A Fateful Flight_

_August 11, 1989_

"Okay Ensign Bradford, I trust you know the motions from the simulator and your time in the T-2 and TA-4, so hopefully you won't plant us in the ground."

Ryan Bradford, one of the newest Osean Naval aviators to be received by the RAG, nodded and let out a quick "Yes sir". Despite his calm demeanor, inside the 23year-old was about ready to hoot and holler like an overzealous sports fan at his teams championship game. Today was the day, the moment he'd waited and worked for since he'd told his Mom he'd wanted to fly.

Lieutenant Commander Bruce Harold, his instructor and RIO for the flight, stowed the charts and took his helmet from his bag. Ryan did the same pressing open the door at the end of the hall for his superior before following after, quickly sliding the HGU-33 over his dirt blonde hair. He had yet to fully personalize it, but the snow-white head cover did carry his call sign on it: Rocky.

A dozen or so yards away sat a row of F-14A Tomcats bathing in the early morning light, wings swept back all the way. Ground crew milled around them, toiling endlessly to make sure the big fighters were in as good a condition they could be. The plane Captain saluted Harold first, before doing the same to Ryan. The two returned the gesture and the senior man looked at his student.

"Okay Bradford, go ahead and give her a look-over. I need to talk with the Chief here for a few minutes." His square-jawed RIO said.

Ryan nodded and walked purposefully towards Tomcat 121. The Lieutenant Commander's name was on the side under the rear seat, but the front was blank until Ryan completed his first flight in the swing-wing aircraft. He tossed his empty helmet bag up into the front seat and placed both hands on the aircraft. The metal felt smooth to the touch.

Feeling an electric sensation course through his veins, Ryan made his way towards the rear of the aircraft, looking at every inch of it. He would be completely unarmed for the flight, saving him the trouble of grabbing any missiles and shaking them. He did have two external fuel tanks, safe guards so a nugget like him could have plenty of time to land.

As he came to the rear of the machine, he hoisted himself up onto the top of the aircraft between the two blue-colored tails, each carrying the circus top hat and NJ tailcode that distinguished the Sky Masters of VF-112 (or as they more commonly named, the Flying Circus). It took 45 minutes of crouching, caressing, and mental approval, but as he returned to the spot he'd began, the blonde was sure the Tomcat was in flying condition.

Harold was already in the backseat, waiting for Ryan. He looked down at him expectantly.

"She's in good condition sir." He reported.

He nodded and Ryan grabbed the boarding grips. With a quick breath and a grunt, he pulled himself up and into the cockpit, moving his helmet bag out of the way. Slowly the Ensign lowered himself into the ejection seat and moved his neck around. A few ground crewmen had followed him up and began helping the fighter pilot in-training strap in. He looked at the controls and dug up what he'd been taught in the simulator.

"Okay Bradford, you know what to do. I'm following your lead." He said.

"Yes sir." The man replied.

His green eyes fell on the controls. He went through the motions, coordinating with the ground crew as the list went on. Slowly the F-14's systems began to come to life, displays and gauges clicking on. The pilot looked over his left shoulder at a pair of men sitting on a yellow tractor and signaled them. One went to work, working his magic as Ryan spun up the engines. The two TF30-P-414A engines began to whir as hot air was fed to them from the tractor's hose.

Ryan secured his oxygen mask and slid down his helmet's visor. Even though they were plenty tight the man also adjusted the straps holding him the seat just a bit more. Once the machine's engines were running, Ryan keyed up the radio.

"Olson Tower, this is Master 121, requesting clearance to taxi." He said.

"Master 121, Tower, standby for clearance." Another voice replied.

Ryan looked around as he waited. The ground crew had cleared away except for one plane director, standing right in front of him. A quick burst of static awakened his ears.

"Master 121, Tower, you are cleared to taxi to runway 2-A."

The young aviator kept his excitement inside as he confirmed he'd gotten the call and looked at the director. The man gave him the signal to release his brakes. Once the Tomcat was capable of movement the director beckoned him forward so he could maneuver. Ryan followed carefully, keeping a tight leash on the throttles. The director got him out far enough and snapped to attention before giving the Ensign a smart salute. The green-eyed man returned the gesture and guided his big fighter to the left, towards the runway entrance.

As he left the tarmac, the man extended the wings of the F-14. The runway was clear with no one departing or arriving. Ryan eased onto the long stretch and pointed his aircraft's nose towards the opposite end. He looked back at his RIO, who gave him a simple nod of acknowledgment.

"Everything good on your end sir?" He asked.

"Yes Bradford, no red lights here." He said.

The blonde nodded and looked forward. His hands were tight on the controls. He released the now fully retracted throttle and adjusted the flaps of the Tomcat. Everything was still running smooth. He was ready to fly, and he didn't want to wait any longer.

"Olson Tower this is Master 121. Request conditions." Ryan said.

"Master 121, this is Olson Tower, winds South-Southwest at two knots."

The controller promptly replied. Ryan took a gulp of air and looked down the runway. His fingers adjusted on the throttle as he uttered the next words in the procedure.

"Master 121 requesting departure on Runway 2-A."

The pause seemed quick, almost as if the controller had made up his mind prior.

"Granted 121, have a nice day."

Ryan almost said 'Thank you." Too loudly, but restrained himself. He pushed the throttles forward and heard the two engines roar, as if the F-14 had gained new life. The machine lurched forward, gaining speed with each inch of ground it covered. Ryan looked at the speed on the left side of the HUD every other second he wasn't keeping the Tomcat on a straight path down the runway. The airspeed surpassed 100 mph and rapidly approached takeoff speed. Ryan waited until he was a few digits past before he pulled back the control stick. With an almost liberating feeling the Tomcat left the ground and went skywards, and Ryan Bradford savored every second of it.


	2. Chapter 1: On Eagle's Wings

_Chp. 1: On Eagle's Wings_

_Five Years Later…_

"Still no joy. These guys even make it off the ground?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't, they're jarheads after all."

Lieutenant Ryan Bradford chuckled a little at his RIO's quip, but he had a point. The two Osean Navy F-14s had been aloft an hour, a third of that time spent circling over the small patch of ocean. By now they were SUPPOSED to have gotten into it with a pair of Osean Marine F/A-18s flying out of MCAS Hume, but that had yet to materialize. It was amusing for the Marines to be late, but Ryan let the guy behind him, Lieutenant Takeru Hinamoto, lest he incur the "wrath" of his girlfriend's father.

He looked over at the other Tomcat of VF-115 floating through the sky a couple hundred yards away. Its pilot, Lieutenant (junior grade) Tom Kurt, looked over at his friend and shrugged as if he knew the other blonde's thoughts. Ryan looked around again and then at the radar display. Since this was a peace time exercise, they were required to be transmitting so that other aircraft in the area could be aware of the exercise. Not exactly realistic training but better than accidentally hitting a civilian 747 Ryan mused in his head.

"Anything Razor?" he asked.

"Nope, still nothing…" the man with chocolate-colored hair replied, watching the AWG-9 paint the sky with electronic waves. He looked outside two, wondering if the two F/A-18s had their radars off. Almost as soon as he thought that the Electronic Counter Measures panel came to life. Ryan looked down and felt a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Looks like they're here." He remarked as he keyed his radio.

"Spade Flight, this is Firebird. We've got you guys on radar, welcome to the fight." He spoke up.

"Yeah, what kept yah?" Tom added.

"Sorry about the delay Firebird, we had a guy's front gear collapse on landing. Nothing bad, just a little delay." The voice of the lead F/A-18 pilot said.

"Well then no use in waiting around any longer. Okay you guys remember the hard deck for this. Merge and engage, heaters and guns only." Ryan replied, getting to business.

The two pilots gave their machines some more gas and spread out a little more.

"Firebird 105 has a solid radar contact, two bandits, 70 miles out coming from heading 278." Razor reported.

"Roger that." Ryan acknowledged as he flipped up the Master Arm switch and selected his ACM pod. He looked over at Tom and signaled for him to change his radio frequency. They did it simultaneously so as to be away from the ears of the Marine pilots.

"Okay Bull, I'll get the lead guy, you get his friend. Break into each other after the merge." He instructed.

"Gotcha Rocky." Tom winked under his visor.

Ryan looked forward and waited for Razor to switch the radar to Auto Acquisition (AUTOGUNS) as they got close. He kept the throttles in the mid-range after a few minutes of speeding.

"Okay, I've reacquired them, still two, same heading, now 22 miles out." the RIO said.

Ryan saw two specks in the near-cloudless sky and adjusted his grip on the stick and throttles. The two F/A-18s adjusted for the merge and as they lapsed into the radar range, two TD boxes encased them on the HUD. Ryan listened as his ACM's pod copied the Sidewinder's distinct growl. It was too low for a solid lock, but it could at least detect heat sources. The black specks had grown wings and tailfins now. The two F-14s kept straight and level as they closed in with their opponents.

"Fight's on, fight's on." Tom radioed as they passed.

Razor turned around in his seat as Ryan made an ascending hard right. Tom mirrored his move in the opposite direction and passed by about 25 feet behind Firebird 105.

"You still see him Razor?" Ryan asked as he brought the F-14 around.

"Roger, one bandit at seven o' clock high, he's trying to ascend." Razor confirmed.

As Ryan pulled back the stick even more, pressing the Tomcat into a loop, he spotted the Hornet turning its nose downwards and towards him. The Naval aviator rolled upright and went for lock. The F/A-18 deployed a burst of flares to bat off the attack and continued towards him. Ryan rolled inverted and pulled back on the stick to keep his nose of the strike-fighter as it went below him. The g-forces kept his body in the seat and his muscles tense. The F-14 leveled out below the F/A-18. Ryan went for a lock again but was foiled in the same way as the Marine deployed flares and maneuvered. Ryan stayed on him as they descended a bit more.

As Ryan got the best angle he could, he heard his ECM panel starting to beep again. Razor answered what he was about to ask immediately.

"One bandit on our tail!" he called.

"Shit, okay hang on." Ryan cursed.

He broke right, letting the other F/A-18 go. The ECM's beeping adjusted, despite Ryan's best efforts, until it was a solid tone. Just like that his F-14 had been "killed".

"Firebird 105's dead." Razor sighed. Ryan let out a long, frustrated sigh and pressed his head against the seat. He assumed a lower level holding pattern until the fight was over. Tom was the only survivor.

"Okay let's try that again Spade Flight." Ryan said as he shifted and rotated a little stiffness from his neck…

The two aviators felt a hint admonished as they lowered themselves from the F-14's cockpit and onto the ramp of NAS Altaria Bay. Tom could at least feel better that he'd "bagged" one of the Hornets twice during the mock fights and they'd at least gotten one. Sousuke was more concerned about what had led to Ryan and Razor's deaths on two of the three occasions, which he talked about constantly as the pilots stored their flight gear and showered so they'd at least smell good for the debriefing.

"All I'm saying is we seemed to have forgotten the F/A-18C's smaller size allows it to maneuver better than our aircraft. The F-14 is larger and thus less agile despite being a fighter aircraft." He concluded in his permanently affixed businessman's tone.

"Okay, okay Samurai, we get it. We got too cocky and let ourselves slip." Ryan replied as he pulled open his locker, a little annoyed with hear about the subject for so long. He pulled out a fresh flight suit, dark blue shirt and undergarments.

"I hate to admit it, but I think for once we've gotta bow our heads to the Bug." Tom frowned as he styled his short head of bleach-blonde hair. Razor frowned and nodded.

"How'd he get away from you anyways Bull?" Ryan asked. The tallest pilot of the group looked back into his locker and cleared his throat.

"I…I uh overshot him." he coughed. The other Tomcat crew gave him a look. Samurai didn't seem fazed by the words, probably because he'd actually seen Tom's mistake.

The debriefing went about as well as it could. There were not reprimand or yelling, just the lack of quiet satisfaction and the conclusion that everyone has bad days. Afterwards they were released to go their own ways. Ryan bid farewell to his friends and got inside a different ride, his midnight blue 68 Mustang GT. He left the through the main gate and headed a few miles down the road, through the town of Altaria Bay and the onramp for the freeway.

Ryan depressed the brake pedal of his car as he came towards the turn onto the road south. He zoomed up the off ramp and merged on, having just missed the rush hour traffic. He was quickly on the freeway and heading west. The TLC given to the old car was showing as it performed, giving quiet satisfaction to the pilot.

He glanced back north as he passed his home base of NAS Altaria Bay. At 28, Ryan had been stationed there his whole career so far. The skinny pilot with dirty blonde hair had joined up at 22, having done four years of ROTC at Andrew University just south of Oured. Now six years later, he was at the controls of the Osean Navy's premier fighter, the F-14A Tomcat. The hell with those Sparrow shooting Eagle pilots and multi-mission F/A-18 jockeys, even if the latter had gotten lucky today.

Ryan followed the freeway as it hugged the coast. The sun was beginning its slow descent towards the horizon. Ryan glanced at the clock on his radio. He figured he'd be home in about two hours. He reached down and turned on the radio. He quickly changed from the news to the area's rock station. Ryan stretched out and grinned. Life was good.

He headed west for about another 100 or so miles before he came to the exit for his home town of Fairemont. It was a quant little seaside town that sat on the coast. Ryan slowed as he came down the off ramp. It was always pretty good to live so close to where you grew up.

He navigated the streets and eventually came to a boarding house that sat about two blocks from the ocean. Mustang parked out on the curb. The young aviator exited his vehicle and walked down the sidewalk towards the entrance. As he was walking up the steps the door came open and his sister Samantha came running out to embrace him.

"Oh Ryan! It's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, kissing her brother on the cheek.  
"Good to see you too Sis." Ryan replied.

"Well come on in, everyone's waiting for you." She said, tugging for him to follow her.

Ryan walked into the kitchen, where his friend (now brother in law) Kai and his little niece Kari (Samantha's daughter) were.

"Uncle!" the short redhead exclaimed, bounding from the table to hug him.

"Hey squirt." Ryan grinned. He looked over at Kai and the two shook.

"Hey Kai, how are you, you?" Ryan said with a friendly grin.

"I'm good, how about you?" he replied.

"Flying the best jet in the Navy and getting paid to do it." Ryan replied.

"Where's May?" he asked. Two slender arms came around him, almost in response.

"Welcome home flyboy." His girlfriend said with a peck on the cheek.

"Glad to be home." Ryan smiled. She let go of him and walked past so she could see him while she embraced him.

"I'm glad you could come down." she said. Ryan embraced her back.

"One of the many benefits of being two hours from home." He smiled. His stomach growled a little. May was used to that.

"You must be hungry." She assumed, brushing some of her long brown hair back over her shoulder.

They sat down and had a dinner of fish (Ryan's favorite), mashed potatoes, and salad. Having not been able to come down for a few weeks, Ryan caught up with everyone. After they cleared the table Ryan and Kai each had a beer.

"So how far off until your next cruise?" Kai asked as he took a swig from the brown bottle.

"Probably a month. We've been doing a lot of work-ups and qualifications, that's why I haven't been able to come down to often lately." Ryan replied, sitting back in his seat.

"How's the programming business?' he replied.

"Good, computers are really gaining popularity, so I have a feeling I'll have a secure job a long while." Kai nodded.

"Yeah, they sure help make my F-14 the lean mean fighting machine it is." Ryan agreed. He swished around the beer in his bottle a little.

"How's Kari doing in the second grade?" He questioned.

"I'm doing just fine Uncle!" Kari replied enthusiastically. Ryan looked over at her.

"That's good squirt, do your best and maybe someday you'll be a pilot like me." He grinned. Kari smiled and ran off. Ryan finished his beer and stood up.

"Well if you'll excuse me, there's a certain someone waiting for her flyboy out on the porch." Ryan half-chuckled as he tossed the beer into the recycling can.

"Sure thing." Kai said as he took a swig of his own.

May was waiting on a couch on the back porch, watching the waves quietly roll. She heard the door open.

"Good evening miss." Ryan said as he poked his head out.

"Good evening there stranger." She winked.

Ryan sat down next to her and watched the sea alongside her.

"Find any good houses near the base?" Ryan asked.

"A few, but I've so busy at the hospital sometimes it's hard to make time." May replied.

"If you want you can always send me to do it." Ryan suggested.

"Could you?" May asked, looking at him. Ryan nodded. May brought him close and kissed him in gratitude…

To speak honestly, Ryan hadn't been expecting the phone in May's room to go off at the hour it did. The young aviator's mind was slow to register the electronic beeping. He groggily opened his eyes and picked the thing up.

"Yeah?" He asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes.

"Lieutenant Bradford please." A stoic voice replied. Ryan sat up straight. Oh crap he thought.

"Speaking…" He said.

"Lieutenant, you are ordered to report back to your post immediately, confirm you have received the message Lieutenant." The voice of the squadron duty officer informed.

"Roger that, I'll be on the road as soon as I can." Ryan said, putting the phone down. He looked at the clock. It was 5 AM.

_"Ah the life of a combat pilot."_ He thought.

"Who was that?" May said.

Ryan looked back at his girlfriend, who still lay under the sheets, her long brown hair cascading as if it was floating on water. Her blue eyes were still half closed.

"My squadron, something's up so I have to head back." Ryan explained. May's eyes shot wide open.

"What?! You just got here!" she exclaimed, sitting up straight.

"I know, but…" Ryan trailed off. She only stared at him.

"Do you mind if I use your shower?" Ryan asked. May nodded slowly. Ryan thanked her and stood up, grabbing some clothes as he walked towards the bathroom.

May got out of bed and straightened the skirt of her night gown. Whatever they're calling him in for better be damn important, she thought, irked by the time of the call.

May then walked out the door and down the hall, taking care to be quiet. She went down stairs and into the living room. On a hunch she turned on the TV. What she saw made her drop the remote.

When Ryan came down, dressed in a flight suit he kept on hand in case this sort of thing happened, May was staring at the TV (which was muted), hand still open from dropping the remote.

"May, are you alright?" Ryan asked. She still stood there. Ryan came down and walked up to her. What was on the screen made him stop too. Written in bold letters across the bottom of the screen were the words "Belka invades Ustio and Osea. Osean Army on the defensive."

"Son of a bitch." Ryan muttered. He noticed the time on the TV.

"I have to go." He added. May turned towards him.

"I'm coming with you." May declared firmly.

"No, stay here." Ryan told her. May looked at him.

"If you're going, then so am I." She said. Ryan needed to be firmer in his reasons.

"No, you need to stay here. If by some chance they decide to hit Altaria, I want you out of harm's way." Ryan replied. May looked at him a moment, then nodded reluctantly.

"I'll call you when I find out more." He added. He then kissed her goodbye, told her he loved her, and left.

Ryan drove as fast as he could back to NAS Altaria. Soon, around seven, he was pulling up to the gate of the base. A marine orderly stepped up to the open window and took Ryan's ID card. Ryan briefly glanced at the F-4 Phantom II standing as the gate guard, in front of it on the sign, under NAS Altaria read, in all capitals, "Peace through superior force!"

Ironic, Ryan thought, as he took back his ID and continued through the gate with the other cars. He went down the main avenue and took a left, heading towards the base's actual airfield. About two blocks from the place he turned into the parking lot of a non-descript gray building and parked. About a dozen or so other cars sat in the lot already. Ryan got out and noticed another man exiting his own car. It was the commander of his squadron, CDR. Cody "Ranger" Walker.

"Morning sir." Ryan saluted as he walked up, flight cap on. the man returned it.

"Morning son." He replied in his deep southern drawl.

The two walked to the door, under a sign that gave the squadron's name and motto.

VF-115 Fightin Typhoons

Brave the Storm, Kill the MiGs!

Inside, the duty officer directed Ryan to head to the briefing room while Walker was to be updated by the intel people. Ryan, hat in hand, walked down the hall until he reached the room he'd been ordered to report to. Most of VF-115's pilots and RIOs were already present, talking and trying to guess exactly what had happened. Ryan simply walked in.

"Hey Rocky." A familiar voice said. Ryan looked around, but couldn't place the direction of it.

"Behind you, jeez, it isn't that dark in here." The voice added.

Ryan turned around to see Razor already seated and waiting.

"Hey Razor." Ryan replied, taking a seat next to his friend. Razor nodded as his arms went up and his face contorted with a yawn.

"How's May?' he asked.

"As beautiful as always. She's worried about what's going on, but you know her, she's a tough girl." Ryan replied. He looked at Razor.

"How's Miko?" he asked. The man stroked the dark brown hair that had gotten him his name.

"The same as May." He said with a hint of a grin. Ryan chuckled.

"Hey, you two have any ideas why we've been called in so early?" another voice asked. The two looked over at Tom.

"None Bull." Razor said. Ryan was about to explain what happened, when the squadron XO's voice came booming over the conversations.

"Attention on deck!"

The twenty-four men of VF-115 came to the ordered stance as Walker went down the center aisle. He came to the front and returned his squadron's salutes before giving the order to be seated.

"Okay boys, It looks like we've got one helluva reason to be here today." He began, his voice serious. He took the cigarette out of his mouth before continuing.

"For those who don't know what I mean, it has been confirmed that the Belkans, by some act of who knows what, have massed the men and machines to not only invade their old territory of Ustio, but also have managed to push into Osea, although not as far." He announced. A few murmurs sounded before Walker brought things back to order.

"I do not need to elaborate on what this means for us. Now, as we sit here the Stinger and her battle group are being assembled and readied as fast as they can. I've been told that in about twenty-four hours, we'll be rolling down the tarmac to meet with her. I cannot tell you exactly where we are heading, or what part we're gonna play in this, but I can tell y'all we are going, and we are going to kick the Belkans' asses!" Walker continued, his voice rising with the last sentence. He looked back at his pilots.

"Y'all are to report back here at this time tomorrow. Until then, kiss your families goodbye and make your peace boys, we're headin into the real shit." He finished. He asked if there were any questions, and when not a hand rose, he called the room to attention, and dismissed his pilots.

Ryan immediately drove back to Fairemont. By now everyone was awake, and waiting for him. The TV was still on, keeping the world updated about the unfolding war. The first one to embrace him was Kari.

"You didn't say goodbye uncle." She protested. He picked her up.

"I'm sorry squirt, but your uncle had to go to his base." He explained. Ryan set her back down.

"So I'm guessing you're being deployed to help combat this situation?" Kai assumed. Ryan nodded.

"Come this time tomorrow I'll be on the carrier sailing toward Ustio." Ryan said.

The others were silent. They needed no explanation, no elaboration on where Ryan was heading or why.

"Where's May?" Ryan asked.

"She's in her room. Breakfast will be waiting for you when you two are ready." Samantha replied.

"Thanks Sam." He said as he walked towards the stairs. The door was closed, but not locked. Ryan opened it and poked his head in. May sat on her bed.

"I'm back." Ryan said. May looked back at him, and when he was closer, embraced him.

"Welcome back." she said.

"I know you know why I've been called in." he said. May nodded.

"How long?" she asked.

"I'll be leaving for the war zone in less than ten hours." Ryan answered. May sat back on the bed.

"You know it could always happen." Ryan said as he sat down next to her.

"Yes, I knew that since you first told me you wanted to be a pilot, but I always hoped it wouldn't." May replied.

"Me too, but I promise I'll come home safe and sound." Ryan said. May looked at him and smiled.

"I know you will." She said, kissing him on the forehead.

"You zap those bastards and come straight home, okay?" she said, assuming the general's drawl.

"Yes ma'am." Ryan grinned with a quick salute.

The family ate breakfast together, and after a few more hours Ryan bid farewell to everyone.

"Godspeed Ryan." Kai told him.

"Thanks man, you keep those computers in good shape, we're gonna need em." Ryan replied, the two shaking hands. Sarah hugged him goodbye, tears coming down her cheeks.

"Uncle, you come back safe okay?" Kari said.

"Understood ma'am." Ryan said as if he were talking to an officer. He kissed her goodbye and then stood up to bid May goodbye. He kissed her and she cupped his head in her hands.

"I love you." She said. Ryan kissed her again.

"I love you." He replied.

He then let her go. Ryan walked down the steps, and waved one last time. May returned the wave, now crying and praying dearly that it wouldn't be the last time she told him those words.

Before he left though, Ryan had one last stop to make. He went across town to a small cemetery. Near the mortuary sat two graves. Ryan walked up to them and looked down at the headstones of his parents. He saluted his father, the late LCDR. John Bradford.

"Hey mom, dad. Looks like your boy's going off to war. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left. I know you're both proud of me." He said softly.

"Tell God I said hello, and that I'm praying for him to keep an eye on me." He said. He smiled and saluted his dad once more before turning to leave. As he walked back towards his car, he noticed a familiar face, the groundskeeper Mr. Edmonton.

"Good morning Mr. Edmonton." He greeted. The old man looked at him and smiled.

"What's the flight suit for son?" he asked, pointing a thin finger at Ryan.

"I'm going off to war." He replied.

The man's eyes lit up. Before this job, Mr. Edmonton had been a marine. He'd fought in WWII as a young man, going up against the Eruseains on there own turf and went on in several other conflicts, retiring as a Gunnery Sergeant with a chest full of medals and commendations. He motioned for the young pilot to come closer.

"Watch out for them Ruseies, they'll getcha." He told Ryan with a hint of a smile. It hadn't been an Erusean or Yuktobanian soldier that had gotten him though, it had been Mr. Arthritis.

"Don't worry Mr. Edmonton, I'll keep an eye out for those bastards." He smiled.

Ryan walked to his car and opened the door. He looked at the groundskeeper. The man had managed to straighten his back and bring up his right hand. Ryan smiled and saluted the old veteran. He left and made the long two hour drive back to NAS Altaria…

That next morning, there was a calm air that enveloped NAS Altaria as the men of VF-115, and its sister squadron VF-34 walked out onto the flight line of the base. All around, mechanics and other maintenance personnel scrambled about, making sure the twenty-four F-14A Tomcats were ready to go do there job.

Ryan and Razor walked alongside Tom and his RIO, the antithesis of the tall surf rat known as Sousuke "Samurai" Akigo. He never seemed to smile, and in the tense situation, that remained the same.

"See you on the boat." Tom said as he walked towards his F-14.

"See you then." Ryan replied, talking his helmet from its bag and putting it on his head.

"Good morning Mister Bradford." His crew chief ,Washington, said.

"Morning Wash. I trust the bird's ready to go?" Ryan said. the young black kid smiled broadly and nodded. The F-14 was as much his pride as it was Ryan's.

Ryan nodded and went to work inspecting his plane. Razor climbed up and looked over the top while Ryan checked out the weapons and engines. They'd be carrying a full combat load of two AIM-9M Sidewinders, two AIM-7M Sparrows, and four AIM-54C Phoenixes. Finally, when the bird had been completely checked out by it's crew, Ryan climbed up the boarding steps.

"I'll see you on the carrier." Ryan said to Washington. The young man nodded and smiled again.

"You ready Razor?" Ryan asked as he secured his O2 mask.

"You bet." The RIO said as he strapped in. Ryan did the same and then took a picture of May from his pocket, putting it on the right panel.

As he strapped in his free hand turned on the F-14. next to the machine a small tractor, referred to as a huffer, used to feed hot air into the engines. When the turbines were spinning fast enough the hose was disconnected and the wheel chocks removed. Ryan watched as maintenance personnel cleared the jet. He looked to the right at Tom's F-14, where the same thing was happening. Then, in front of him, a plane director beckoned him to follow the Tomcat to his left. Already the air was filled with engines revving up. As he taxied forward Ryan looked at his watch. It was 7 AM, March 26, 1995.


	3. Chapter 2: Welcoming Comittee

_Chp. 2: Welcoming Committee_

_Two days later_

The _OFS Stinger_ and her six escorts effortlessly pushed aside the waves as the headed east towards the war zone. Several hundred miles to her west the _OFS Kestrel _andher carrier battle group were also on the way and the to her South came the non-nuclear but still capable _OFS Hawk_. Each carrier could launch its air wing of over 80 aircraft to do anything from secure air superiority to knock out ground targets.

On the deck of the _Stinger_, deck crewmen were busy at work keeping the planes ready to fly. Even though they weren't fully at war yet, flights of F-14s and F/A-18s were airborne to keep a perimeter around the fleet.

Below the flight and hangar decks, amidst the maze of passageways, compartments, and spaces, Ryan was asleep in his stateroom. He'd just landed from a six hour BARCAP keeping the fleet perimeter secure. It'd been a whole lot of nothing except for a mid-patrol refueling from a tanker.

Above he heard the sound of the #2 catapult being readied. Ryan tried to ignore the sound, but soon after came the loud whooshing of it launching whatever aircraft had been hooked to it. Ryan frowned and put the pillow over his head. Sleep on an aircraft carrier: the world's biggest contradiction. Finally frustrated with the effort, and deciding 6 ½ hours was enough for him, Ryan got out of bed and put on his flight suit.

He sat down in his chair and got out some paper. He'd wanted to do this for some time, but couldn't really bring himself to it. Finally he began writing. It was to May. He went on about his life, his regrets, and how much she meant to him. when he was finally done he folded it up and left. That was that, he thought.

Ryan left the stateroom and went down to the wardroom for a burger. He sat in a table, watching a TV as it showed aircraft recovering when they did.

"Hey Rocky." Tom said from behind. Ryan looked over at him.

"Hey Bull." Ryan nodded.

Ryan looked at the screen again as an F/A-18 came down. he sunk his teeth into his meal, then looked at Bull.

"Guess it's the real shit huh?" Tom said.

"Yeah, but I guess it means all that training we gone is gonna be put to the test. In a sort of cynical way, it'll be Osean dollars well spent." Ryan said, trying to shoo away any gloom.

"Or well wasted." Tom half-quipped.

"Talk to the chaplain man. That's why he's here." Ryan said.

"Yeah, but there's one other thing that'll sure help." Tom said. the big ladies' man looked up at Ryan and held out a hand.

"You watch my back, and I'll watch yours. Deal?" he said. Ryan put down the burger and shook the hand.

"Deal." Ryan said. Tom grinned, his conscious clearer. He then left.

Ryan finished his own meal, and deciding the chaplain suggestion sounded very good, made his way though the maze of halls to the chaplain's office. To his luck, CDR. (or Father more commonly) Jim Doris was present. He looked to be around 49, with a build that only showed a small amount of fat.

"Afternoon Father." Ryan said as he walked in. the gray-haired man nodded.

"How are you Ryan?" he asked. The man, unless it was a higher officer, tended to address people by their first name (as a means of making them feel more comfortable when talking to him).

"Well Father, as you can probably guess, scared." Ryan replied with a quick chuckle. The man nodded, very familiar with such a case.

"Combat will do that to you. In my 23 years I have dealt with such a case often." Doris replied. He motioned to a seat. Ryan sat down.

"How are you? Personal life I mean." he asked.

"Well, when I get back I hope to marry my girlfriend. My sister's getting along fine. And as for me myself, I have to say I'm enjoying being an aviator." Ryan replied. The man nodded.

"How far off until your first combat sortie?" the man asked. Ryan looked up a minute.

"Flight schedule says the 0400 on the 28th, so in only a half a dozen hours or so." Ryan replied. The man turned his chair to him and straightened his glasses.

"Well, I shall tell you what I see as the best thing to do: keep calm and accept that God will guide you. He knows what will be the best path will be for you, and already has it planned out. Just trust him and do what you've been trained to do, he'll do the rest." The man said at length. Ryan nodded.

"Thank you Father." Ryan replied. They shook and Ryan got up to leave.

"And keep an eye on your friend Tom will you? He can be handful that man." Doris added. Ryan grinned.

"Yes sir." He replied…

Throughout the Stinger the air was getting tenser by the minute. The midnight meal having been long said and done, red-shirted ordnance handlers carted bombs and missiles through the mess hall to the weapons elevators. On the hangar deck, planes were fed JP5 aviation fuel by purple shirts while other crewmen went about making sure every nut and bolt was fastened, and every radar, emergency light, and life support system was in combat ready condition.

Ryan watched from the cockpit of his F-14 as things went on. He and Tom were sitting on alert tonight, ready to launch in case Belkan planes wanted to challenge the battle group. So far that was all that had been ordered. Rumors were circulating that the first offensive strikes would be to secure the Futuro canal, but just rumors.

The aviator sat back in his seat and let out a breath. Sitting alert was about the most mundane job you could get assigned. Just as he thought things wouldn't get any better (or worse) he noticed movement around his plane. The catapult officer, clad in his camo pants and yellow vest and shirt, signaled to him to start the engines. Ryan did so immediately, also powering up the F-14's other systems. Then came a loud voice, audible even over all the noise.

"Launch the Ready Five! Launch the Ready Five!"

Behind the big fighter the jet blast deflector rose up and contained the oppressive heat the now awake engines were letting out. Ryan looked back at the cat officer and got the "full power" signal. As Ryan shoved the throttles forward. The man was checking the track to make sure it was clear. He then glanced at the armored bubble a few feet away that jutted about a foot and a half out of the deck. He nodded at the man inside, who controlled the big slingshot, and then back at Ryan. In the back Razor already had his head against the ejection seat. The catapult officer saluted Ryan, and Ryan immediately returned it, his gaze going down the catapult track. The cat officer came to one knee, touched the deck and pointed forward. the two aviators felt the F-14 lurch forward and the G-forces shove him back into his seat. Outside the F-14's engines screamed like a monster as it went down the catapult track. As he got airborne and eased back the throttles Ryan heard Tom shout over the radio.

"YEEEEEEHHHHHAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWW!"

The second they were airborne Razor announced a data link from the E-2C Hawkeye that orbited above the carrier.

"Okay Rocky, Hummer says there's multiple Belkan Tu-95s coming at the group's perimeter. Heading 340 at 200 miles, Angels 15." Razor said over the ICS (Internal Communications System).

"Roger that." Ryan said as he and Tom banked right, their F-14s' wings sweeping back. They came back around, noses pointed to the northwest.

"You ready Rocky?!" Tom said enthusiastically. The normality of radio silence was discarded this time, there was no need for surprise. Ryan looked over at him and pumped his fist in the air.

"Cut the chatter boys. We're tracking those bombers coming in. Meet up with Firebirds 107 and 103 at CAP station Alpha, understood?" The airborne controller aboard the E-2 cut in.

"Roger that." Ryan replied.

Ryan, being in the lead position, pulled back on the stick and climbed upwards to the same altitude as the bombers. He flipped up the master arm switch.

"Okay, we're 150 miles out." Razor announced.

"Gotcha, we'll get a pair of Phoenixes off as soon as we hit max range." Ryan said.

"Roger that." Razor said with a nod.

Ryan looked down at his picture of May. Wish me luck he thought. Almost after he heard May's voice in his head.

_"Yeah Ryan, sock it to em!"_

The same words she'd told him when he'd been on the boxing team in high school.

"120 miles." Razor announced.

Ryan looked over at Tom and touched his O2 mask with two fingers, splicing them as he pulled his hand away. Tom nodded and broke off to widen the space between them. Ryan looked forward while Razor worked his RIO magic. They were fully armed with two AIM9-M Sidewinders, two AIM-7M Sparrows and four AIM-54C Phoenixes. The AIM-54 would be their primary weapon, being able to reach out around a hundred miles. Plus, it would make it easier to maneuver.

"Hummer reports that they've got escorts, looks like Foxhounds." Razor added. Ryan nodded. MiG-31 Foxhound Interceptors, that meant long to short range missiles as well as cannons.

"110 miles, going for full lock on." Razor told him.

Ryan looked down at his radar display. Dots were appearing on the screen. He then looked up at the HUD. The AWG-9 could track and shoot at six of these, and that was the number that appeared.

"Okay, standby. Firebird 105's engaged." Razor announced. Ryan tightened his grip on the control stick. Cool sweat pooled underneath his chin. A single red diamond came onto the HUD and inched towards a TD Box.

"Okay Bull, I've got the two on the left." Ryan said.

"Roger, center two are mine." Tom replied. Ryan looked down at his radar and saw two more blips coming from four o' clock. He looked over to see two more F-14s from the squadron. He quickly dipped his wings, then looked forward. the diamond had met the TD Box and they'd turned red. For Osea!

"Firebird 105, Fox 3!" Ryan howled as his thumb depressed the launch button on the stick.

One of the AIM-54s fell off its pallet on the belly of the Tomcat, and after a second the motor ignited. The big weapon shot forward and under Ryan's nose. Razor locked a second Tu-95 and Ryan called out a second Fox 3.

Ryan watched as Tom fired off two missiles, then Firebirds 107 and 103. The eight missiles streaked ahead, their speeds flirting with Mach 3.

About 90 miles out the formation of Tu-95 Bears had detected the approaching threats. Flares were being released and ECM output increasing. Above them their escorting MiG-31s hit the gas to close into missile range.

"Okay, first's one's closing in…five miles…it hit!" Razor called as he tracked the first AIM-54.

"That's one." Ryan added.

"Second one's missed! Standby, I'm locking that guy up again!" Razor called. Ryan shot his last two AIM-54s off.

"Firebirds, be advised, we're tracking about eight bandits inbound. 340 at 70 miles. Angels 16 and doing about Mach 2." The E-2 controller reported. Ryan switched to his medium-range Sparrows.

"Okay boys, drop yer tanks and get ready fer em." Firebird 103's pilot, LCDR. Jim "Buck" Buckley ordered.

"Roger that sir." Tom said.

"Roger." Ryan replied as he jettisoned his two external fuel tanks.

The four F-14s formed up in a line formation and once again increased altitude.

"Firebirds be advised, we have Daredevil 210 and 208 inbound to assist." The E-2 updated. Buck gave em a quick roger that.

"Razor, what about that other Bear?" Ryan asked.

"Hold on…we got him. that's two!" Razor called.

Just then came a warbling in their ears. Ryan looked down at his radar. The MiGs had closed into radar range.

"Everybody lock a bandit and break!" Buck ordered.

Ryan saw as two TD boxes came up. He then went vertical and did a barrel roll to shake up any missiles that might be locking onto him. He switched from Sparrows to Sidewinders.

"Firebird 103 this is Daredevil 210, we'll get the Tu-95s then assist you with those MiGs." One of the VF-34 Tomcats said.

Ryan closed distance with the MiGs, when the warbling became alarm like.

"Missile coming at us, ten o' clock!" Razor called.

Ryan broke into the attack and performed another barrel roll, the G-forces punishing his body. He looked towards where the threat was coming from, trying to spot any sort of tell-tale sign.

"I can't see it Razor!" He shouted.

"Just keep jinking." His RIO assured.

Just then a flash went over them, Ryan managed to catch a glimpse of an AA-9 Amos long-range missile.

"Holy shit!" he gasped.

"It missed us!" Razor called out. He looked back at his radar

"Okay, we've got a MiG turning towards us at ten o' clock!' He called out Ryan reversed and broke towards the attacker. He spotted the aircraft as a TD box surrounded it.

"Tallyho!" the pilot cried.

Ryan rolled right to get some space and then came around at the MiG from its nine o clock. He AIM-9 sniffed out the MiGs two big tailpipes and began to give Ryan an electronic growl. Ryan let it loose.

"Firebird 105, Fox 2!" he called.

the weapon tore through the sky after the MiG's red hot tailpipes. The Belkan pilots had been caught off guard, and were too close to the weapon to do anything. Ryan streaked by as his Sidewinder blew away the MiG's rear section.

"Splash three." Razor said, watching the fireball sail towards the black water. Just then came a call over the radio.

"Firebird 104 here, mayday, mayday! I've got a guy on my tail!" Tom called out.

"Where are you Bull?" Ryan replied.

"Look out!"

Ryan felt himself shake as something shot by just behind him. He looked in his mirrors then to his left as a Tomcat shot right behind them, followed by a MiG-31, The Belkan was firing his cannon at Tom. Ryan immediately broke left after them.

"Okay Bull, just hang on, I've got you." Ryan said as he slid behind the MiG.

"Hurry up and nail him!" Tom called, jinking wildly.

"Okay, hang on." Ryan replied. He stayed patient while the AIM-9 locked onto its target. The MiG fired another burst of its cannon.

"We've been hit! We've been hit!" Tom barked.

"Don't worry, it didn't damage either engine!" Sousuke said. Ryan was about to switch to his cannon when the AIM-9 locked on.

"Break right 104!" Ryan shouted.

In the instant that Tom did that, Ryan shot off his other AIM-9 at the MiG. Once the weapon was free He immediately pulled the stick back into his gut and went vertical, being slammed into his seat. His vision went red quickly from the sudden rush, the returned to normal. Ryan leveled out and saw the MiG heading downwards, two parachutes opening.

"Your tail is clear Firebird 104." Ryan said, letting out a loud breath.

"Thanks man, I sure as hell don't wanna buy it on the first day." Tom replied. Ryan clicked his mike twice, still taking in long hard-won breaths. He looked at the radar. The Bears were losing their nerve according to a report from the E-2 and turning home. Buck and the two VF-34 F-14s sent a few Phoenixes after them as a parting gift. The MiGs, now broken and scattered, were running away too.

"So much for the mighty Belkan Air Force." Ryan scoffed. He slid up his visor and looked back at Razor.

"We need gas." The RIO said. Ryan nodded.

"Firebird 103, this is Firebird 105. I'm at Bingo Fuel. Breaking off and heading to the nearest Texaco." He said.

"Roger that Firebird 105, you're free to go." The squadron operations officer said.

Tom formed up on Ryan's wing and they headed back towards the fleet. Soon enough another blip came on the radar. In the early morning light they could make out the shape of a KA-6D Intruder Tanker from the A-6 squadron, VA-67.

"Texaco 523, you've got a pair of thirsty Tomcats here, hope we beat last call." Ryan said. There was a short chuckle.

"Nah, you two got here just in time. Pull right in." the plane's pilot replied.

"Samurai, what's your guy's fuel status?" Razor asked.

"We've just hit Bingo, you two go first." Sousuke replied.

"Roger that." Razor said.

Ryan and Tom came around so they were trailing the tanker. As he closed in Ryan saw the refueling hose slither down from the belly of the plane, refueling basket akin to a flower. Ryan extended the F-14's refueling probe and eased the throttle forward a bit.

"Okay 105, keep her steady." The KA-6 radioed.

"Roger that." Ryan replied. He watched, and smiled with satisfaction as the two connected. JP5 flowed through the refueling system from the external tanks hanging on the wing pylons and into the F-14. Ryan took in another gulp of oxygen. He looked at the picture of May again and grinned.

"Okay Firebird 105, you're full." The pilot said. The hose disconnected and Ryan slid the F-14 back, retracting the refueling probe. Tom came in and did the same.

"Okay, looks like you guys took some hits around the left tail fin. All of your control surfaces working fine?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, just a little sluggish for the left rudder." Tom replied.

"No red lights?" Ryan asked.

"None on my end." Sousuke said.

"You're one lucky sonuvabitch Bull." Ryan smiled.

When Tom was refueled, the two F-14s bid the KA-6 farewell and headed back towards the _Stinger_…

As he taxied out of the way of the more aircraft that were coming in to recover, Ryan felt a powerful weight lifting off his shoulders. The canopy came up, Ryan's mask came off, and Washington pulled out the steps.

"Congratulations Mister Bradford." He said with a wide boyish grin as he pulled himself up to the cockpit.

"Couldn't have done it without you Wash." Ryan replied as he shook the plane captain's hand.

As Ryan unstrapped and dismounted, cheers began to erupt. Ryan looked out at his crew and grinned. He threw a fist in the air, the pose captured by a photographer from CVW-5's PR department, and came down to the deck. He took off his helmet and straightened his sweat soaked hair.

"Sir, if you'd do the honors…" an ordnance handler said, holding out a can of spray paint.

Razor held a star-shaped stencil against the Tomcat, just behind the aircraft's number. Ryan sprayed three red stars on the F-14. Razor took the stencil away and nodded in approval.  
"Not bad, I like it." he smiled. The two then shook hands.

"Yeah, just need two more!" Ryan replied. Tom and Sousuke joined the group.

"What about you two?" Ryan asked.

"You think I'd honestly leave my first fight without a trophy or two?!" Tom smirked. Even Sousuke was smiling.

"Congrats!" Ryan said, shaking his hand.

"You too, and thanks for watching my ass." Tom replied gratefully.

Down in the ready room, where the rest of the squadron was waiting, someone had written in big letters.

"Navy: 1, Belka: 0"


	4. Chapter 3: Burning Bridges

_Chp. 3: Burning Bridges_

A few days after the attack on the fleet, news came through that the Belkan advance had come to a halt, complements of a group of mercenaries flying from a small base in the absolute south of the country. Now it was the Allies' (Osea, Sapin, and Ustio) turn to press the offensive.

"Attention on deck!"

Ryan set down his navigation map and came to his feet as Walker made his way down the center aisle. When he came to the front and returned the salutes, the XO pulled down the screen and the room darkened. The projector came on.

"Well boys, today's gonna be our first offensive strike against Belka." He began. A picture came up of a long bridge.

"While Ustio's merc forces have been able to put a stop to the advance in the air, their ground forces cane still maneuver somewhat. The main thing standing between the Belkans and our last stronghold in Ustio, Valais Air Base, is this bridge right here." Walker continued, pointing to the structure.

"CAG's tasked the Intruders to drop it, and we'll be their top cover." He continued. The slid switched to a bigger one, showing a larger area, including the coast.

"The plan is to come in through this space along the coast that's still controlled by Ustio and then turn north. The strike force will consist of four A-6s armed up with snakes. As y'all know a loaded Intruder is a vulnerable one, so keep any bandits far from them." Walker said, emphasizing the last sentence. He looked at the others.

"Moving on to what the enemy's gonna throw at us, thanks to the Hornets, will be minimal, although the possibility of new air defenses moving in between the time the old ones getting knocked out and us arriving still remains." Walker said, the next few pictures showed mobile AA guns and SAMs, some even firing at the TARPS-equipped F-14 that had taken the pictures.

"Our main threat will be these…" Walker said as another picture came up, showing a Belkan fighter.

"…We have confirmed that the Belkans regularly protect this bridge with several captured F-20 Tigersharks they captured from the Ustians. Now, the F-20 is a lot like the F-5 aggressors we've gone up against in peacetime. They're small but nimble and armed with AIM-9s, unlike the usual AA-8s. But we have one advantage over them. That is the only missile they can shoot, so knock em down with yer Sparrows before they get in close." Walker continued. The projector came off and the lights on.

"Any questions?" He asked rhetorically.

"Okay then, suit up and man yer birds." He said.

The men then filed out of the room and into the lockers.

"These F-20s aren't gonna be like those Foxhounds we zapped a few days back." Razor said, more to himself.

"Yeah, and unlike TOPGUN, they're gonna be shooting back." Ryan replied as he secured his boot knife.

Topside the mission aircraft waited to be launched. Six bulbous-nosed

A-6E Intruders of the "Thunderhearts", their wing stations loaded with Mk.82 bombs, equipped with 'Snakeye' brake fins, sat near the waist catapults. The A-6 was the wing's heavy punch, being able to deliver any air-to-ground weapon in the Osean Navy's inventory.

Ryan and Razor came to their F-14, today loaded with two AIM-9s and six AIM-7 Sparrows. They'd be Walker's wingman today. The F-14s launched first as usual, followed by the Intruders and a pair of EA-6B Prowlers to mess with enemy radars…

Ryan took a swig of the water bottle as the six F-14s and A-6s egressed over the coast of Ustio. It was mid-morning, and according to the weather department, rain would be sweeping in from the west. But to the F-14's powerful AWG-9 radar and the A-6's TRAM turret, weather as about as significant as the socks President Harling wore.

Ryan looked down at his radar display, then over at Walker, who had another unfiltered Marlboro between his lips. Ryan waited with childlike anticipation to see the almost legendary veteran F-4 pilot show his stuff to his 'boys'. In Walker's back seat was Lt. (j.g.) Hal "Gritty" Grigerro.

With the frontline growing closer, the ECM began to beep steadily.

"Here we go." Razor commented.

Ryan looked down out the canopy. The lush green landscape seemed almost untouched and for that matter uninhabited. But the human eye can miss very much.

Down below, mobile batteries of SA-6 "Gainful" missiles were scanning the skies for the approaching planes. Despite the jamming of some jets circling off the coast, each vehicle was working to lock up a jet.

Ryan listened with growing anticipation. Unlike air-to-air weapons, SAMs couldn't be spotted until airborne, or more specifically, you didn't know where they came from until they were coming at you. Then came the calls.

"Firebird 109, I've got VID on a SAM launch, 11 o' clock." One of the other F-14s called.

"Roger that, spread formation and pop flares." Walker ordered.

Ryan hit the countermeasures and broke right.

"Another one's comin up, stay frosty 109." Walker ordered.

Finally the growling came to a beeping.

"SAM launch, eight o' clock." Razor called out.

"Roger that." Ryan replied.

More flares came sailing into the air as Ryan broke into the attack, hoping to lose the lock.

"We're egressing into a damn wall of missiles here Thunderbird, I thought our F-18s smoked em!" Walker bellowed at the mission Hawkeye.

"They must be mobile launchers Firebird 101." Was all the controller could reply with.

Ryan watched as two missile went by. The A-6s were having a helluva time dodging them too.

"Heart 504 here, I've got two locked onto me!"

"Lower your altitudes Hearts, we've still got five miles to the IP!"

But the next call was what really screwed up Ryan's day.

"Firebird, we've got bandits inbound. Heading 356 at 40 miles, Angels 11." The E-2 reported.

"Roger that. Beef, take Irish and Barracuda and keep the Intruders covered. Rocky, Ripper you're on me!" Walker ordered.

Ryan and Lt. Jack Nelson in Firebird 110 turned to the heading with their commander and selected their AIM-7 Sparrows. They increased altitude as several more missiles were fired up, and gunned the throttles.

"Heart 502, you boys better make that bombing run damn quick!" Walker ordered.

"We'll do our best sir!" the lead A-6 ordered.

Ryan watched as two bandits came onto the radar.

"Okay, standby and keep her steady." Razor ordered.

Ryan grunted and waited for his RIO to lock the F-14's radar onto the oncoming bandits. The TD boxes appeared.

"Firebird 101 engaging." Walker reported.

"Firebird 103 engaging." Jack Reported.

"Firebird 105, engaging." Ryan reported.

"He's locked, Shoot him." Razor announced.

With 14 miles between the two formations, Ryan thumbed the button twice. Two AIM-7M Sparrows dropped from the rear fuselage wells and shot forward. Ryan waited with anticipation as they went on towards the horizon. Come on, move faster he thought. As long as they were in flight, the Tomcat had to keep its radar pointed at the oncoming threats. He saw Walker drop his tanks, having fired his two Sparrows, then break to engage up close. Jack did the same.

"They hit yet?!" Ryan asked Razor.  
"Wait…ah shit! First one failed to explode!" the man spat. Ryan abandoned the other and dropped his tanks. He switched to his Sidewinders. He joined Walker on the commander's wing.

"Tallyho, four F-20s at 11 low." Walker called.

Ryan looked down and saw the Gray-colored jets as they went by. Razor was already watching them, his body almost completely turned the other way. Ryan decreased the throttles and went right.

The lead F-20's pilot paid the Osean fighters no attention. He wanted one thing: the bomb-laden attack aircraft they escorted.

"Sir, those bandits are coming at us from 6 o' clock." One of his wingman called.

"Cover me, we have to protect the bridge." He replied.

"Sir?" the pilot replied.

"I'll get the enemy bombers. Distract the fighters long enough for me to do so." He said. The other three fighters broke off from the formation.

_"Come on you Osean piece of junk, move faster!" _he thought, longing for the cockpit of his Mirage 2000.

"Heads up, three bandits coming at us." Jack's RIO called out. When Ryan saw them he grinned.

"Just watch Razor, I'm gonna scare this shit outta this guy!" he called, going to full afterburner.

As he came head on at the Tigershark on the left, it's nose lit up. Ryan fought the want to duck as 20mm bullets went overhead. Thankfully he was going too fast to be accurately fired at.

When he was past, the F-20 went into the vertical. Ryan followed, rolling so he could see the F-20. The two shot above the clouds towards tall altitude. Ryan was glued to his seat by Gs. He sucked in every breath of Oxygen. Finally the Belkan pilot seemed to lose his nerve. He rolled and made a dash to get back to lower altitude. Ryan was quickly on his trail.

As they came back down through the clouds, Ryan's starboard AIM-9 was locking onto the Tigershark's tailpipe. The Osean pilot's thumb waited to push the button.

"Nine o clock!" Razor called out as the RWR began to sound.

Ryan looked to his left just in time to see another F-20 coming to its friend's rescue. Ryan, running on instinct now, broke into the attack. There was a brief missile warning as the F-20 shot one of its AIM-9s a second too late. But Ryan was far from danger. The Tigershark he'd originally been after went on the offensive.

"He's on our six." Razor reported. Tell me something new Ryan thought.

The RWR once again sounded.

"Hold tight Razor." Ryan ordered as he made a bid to shake the lock.

"Okay Rocky, I've got you. Just stay calm son." Walker called.

Ryan saw his commander coming down from above. There was a tongue of tracers as the F-14's six-barreled M61 spewed 20mm down onto the pursuing F-20. it began to fall away, its cannon's ablaze in a vain attempt to get Ryan and take the Osean down with him.

"Nice shootin Skipper!" Ryan called.

"Save it fer th first round at the O Club son." The commander half-laughed half-ordered.

Ryan headed back towards the bridge and after the lead F-20. as he came in the sky was alive with tracers.

"Okay Heart 507, drop em and get outta there!" he heard an A-6 pilot call.

From the left one of the bombers came rolling in. It leveled a brief moment and began to pickle off its bombs. Plumes of water mixed with shattering concrete and steel. Ryan pulled away well before and watched as the jet banked to join his path. Just then two lines of tracers came down on it.

"I'm hit! I'm hit!" The pilot called.

"Get outta there you guys! Punch it!" another Intruder crewman called.

"Negative we're too low we ca-"

the A-6 slammed into a hill. It came apart and large sections of the jet went tumbling forward. aviation fuel and solid metal (now razor sharp) expelled the crew from existence.

"Holy shit!" Razor exclaimed.

Ryan saw as the fourth Tigershark came into view. He saw Jack fly after it and give the Belkan a Sidewinder in reward for his "efforts".

"Objective neutralized. All aircraft Return to Base." The E-2 radioed.

The remaining eleven jets headed home in silence, knowing soon two mothers would be mourning deeply…

"Firebird 105 you are cleared for approach."

Ryan broke off from the formation and made a long circle around. Below the _Stinger_ sailed on, waiting for the F-14 to come down.

Now came one of the less liked parts of a naval aviators career, but one that made him an elite pilot: putting his multi-ton, multi-million dollar jet down safely on the rolling and pitching deck of an aircraft carrier.

Ten miles away from the boat, Ryan let down his landing gear (the tail hook had been deployed when he'd first broken formation) and adjusted his flaps accordingly. He looked down at May's picture for luck, then forward again.

"Okay Starship, Firebird 105 is on approach. No red lights so far." Razor called. Starship was Stinger's radio callsign. There was a minute before a response came.

"Roger that Firebird 105, cleared to begin approach." The carrier's air control center replied.

Ryan let out a steady breath as he felt his heart begin to speed up. Evening landings were never easy, but night landings were worse. He hoped the sun would hang in the sky long enough so he could get down.

On the deck, mere feet from where Ryan would touch down, three men stood between a small steel barricade and a few monitors, looking for Ryan's Tomcat. These men were the LSOs, or Landing Signal Officers. Aviators who were qualified enough to guide other pilots as they came in to "trap" aboard their home ship. While one LSO watched for the F-14, and another kept an eye on the screens, the third held a phone in his hand, and the control to the carrier's mirror landing system, dubbed the pickle, in his other.

The LSO watching lowered his binoculars and walked to the man. He leaned towards him and pointed a finger out into the sky.

"There he is!" he shouted. The LSO nodded and brought the phone to his ear and depressed the transmit button.

"Okay 105, call the ball." An LSO, or landing Signal Officer, radioed.

"Tomcat ball." Razor said, confirming they could see the carrier's mirror landing system. with Ryan's attention fixed on landing, Razor would do the talking.

"Okay 105, ease up on the power a bit." The LSO instructed. Ryan pulled back the throttles an inch.

"Steady, steady. Keep her there…Wait, your drifting right…that's it 105.." the man reported as the F-14 came in.

Ryan looked quickly at his instruments. Everything was steady in its movements, and the red lights remained off. That was more than fine by Ryan's standards.

"Okay, your 2 miles out." The LSO updated.

"Roger that." Ryan replied. He looked at the mirror landing system again. The meatball, which showed Ryan's position, remained steady for the most part.

"One mile…"

the carrier was only feet away now. Ryan's hand's tightened on the controls. Now came the tensest moments.

"In the groove…"

The F-14 was inches away, its wings extended and nose up, making it look like a bird coming down on a tree branch.

"Looks good!" the LSO shouted in relief.

Ryan and Razor felt the Tomcat's gear hit the deck. Ryan rammed the throttles forward in case they didn't catch a wire. Then came the abrupt stop as the F-14's tail hook grabbed a wire. When the F-14 came to a stop, Ryan let out along breath and raised the tail hook back up.

Over in the LSO booth the three officers watched the Tomcat begin to move with satisfaction, and then looked back towards the stern as the next fighter came down to land. Another successful trap…


	5. Chapter 4: Doing the Ditch!

_Chp. 4: Doing the Ditch!_

"Okay man, I've got 20 bucks riding on this, you better not fail me." Tom said to his friend.

"You better plan to spilt that with me." Ryan whispered back.

"Depends on how you do, now go get em!" his 'coach' shouted to him as Ryan stood up on his feet.

Around the makeshift ring, about two dozen sailors, aviators, and marines watched Ryan walk forward to the center. They cheered and shouted, eager to see another installment of one of the Navy's greatest traditions: the Smoker Fight.

Ryan, despite being only a little over six feet tall and just about the skinniest guy in VF-115, was considered to be one of the best fighters in the ring.

In the center stood his opponent, one of the marine grunts of the ship's security detachment. In between them was a man clad in the flight deck garb of a catapult captain. He held his hands up to silence the crowd.

"Welcome everyone to tonight's match between Sgt. Nick Valentine and Lt. Ryan Bradford!" the petty officer boomed. A roar of cheers, then silence.

"Only one man shall walk away victorious tonight. Now, you gentlemen both know the rules: no low blows, no outside help, and no dirty fighting. Winner is the one who knocks out his opponent or pins him. the standard three rounds!" he explained. The two nodded.

"Now shake." The cat captain ordered.

Ryan took off a glove and extended a hand to the marine. They shook and nodded to each other.

"Okay, return to your corners and when the bell rings, begin!" the cat captain said.

Ryan, gloves back on, returned to his corner. He took his water bottle and squirted some of the clear liquid down his throat. The bell rang.

"Go get em man!" Tom shouted after him.

Ryan came forward, fists up, and looked over his opponent. The Sgt. was, as with a lot of marines, solidly built with short hair. But Ryan showed no fear. He knew his way around the ring. The came forward and exchanged blows and blocks. Ryan stayed light on his feet, his main strategy built on quick movements and precise blows. He came back as round one ended.

"Okay Rocky, knock him on his ass this round!" Tom shouted at him as the pilot stood up again. Ryan shook his head to wake himself up.

"Come on sir, give me your best shot!" the marine challenged.

Ryan happily obliged. He applied the second part of his strategy and soon enough the marine lay there on his stomach. As the ref held up Ryan's arm in victory, a few of the Sergeant's buddies came onto the ring and took him away. In the corner Tom was busy collecting their winnings.

"How much did we make?" Ryan asked, his chest slightly bruised and his face sweaty.

"One-fifty!" Tom replied. Ryan held out a hand and his friend gave him $75.

"I love the Navy." Tom smiled.

Ryan then retreated to his room and put the money in his wallet, storing it in a safe (and away from Tom's need for "loans") he had been issued. When he stood up he noticed a pair of envelopes sitting on the desk. Having not seen them before, he took the two in his hands and examined them. One was to Tom, and the other was addressed to Ryan from May.

_"Wow, that was pretty fast." _He thought, putting down Tom's envelope to open his. He sat down in the desk chair and opened the white envelope.

_Dear Ryan,_

_ It's only been a short time since the war started and you left, and my mind still can't adjust to it. Samantha tells me not to worry, but I can't help but do so. I know that you need me to be tough for you, but even the daughter of a Marine Corps Colonel can't help but cry herself to sleep. Kari, surprisingly, seems to have taken it without too many tears. She always tells me you'll come home very confidently, and that the bad guys can't even touch you. I wish I could be like that. Anyhow, I hope this doesn't make you worry too much. I know you need every ounce of concentration you can muster. So even though I'm worried, I wish you luck and Godspeed. Come home in one piece!_

_ Love,_

_May_

…

With enough forces now in Sapin and things slowly turning to the offensive for the Allies, The _Stinger_ and _Kestrel _were ordered east. The _Hawk _would stay in the gulf to support operations in Ustio itself. If the Allies wanted to really bang up Belka's war machine, they had to hit the country itself. And there was only way to get there: several miles of narrow waterway known more commonly as the Futuro Canal.

The plan VF-115 had been briefed on was simple enough. They were to fly top cover for a strike by the wing's F/A-18s and A-6s. In addition, a strike force of Ustio F-15s and F-4s would help to, as Walker put it, "put the Belkans in a tin can and beat it with a sledgehammer". Unfortunately, the Belkans had nicely fortified it for the same reason the Allies wanted it…

Ryan felt his body jolt as the catapult fired and hurled the fully loaded Tomcat down the track.

"Good shot." Razor called as the wings bit the air.

Ryan grunted in reply, then immediately pointed his nose upwards to clear the launch pattern. Next to him was Tom. The two F-14's banked to the right, cruising at full speed with their wings swept back, and made a long circle to join the other Typhoons forming up at higher altitude. Ryan looked to his left and right at the F/A-18s and A-6s loaded with air-to-ground munitions and the supporting Prowlers, KA-6s, and even a pair of S-3B Vikings were in the air in case the Belkans had subs defending the canal.

About halfway to the canal, AWACS was switched from the E-2 Hawkeye above the fleet to an Osean E-3.

"AWACS Eagle Eye to Strike Lead, you are approaching the RP, keep an eye to the west for Ustio strike force." The controller radioed. The CAG, CAPT. Earl Hammel, did the talking.

"Roger that Eagle Eye." he replied.

Ryan looked down at the radar display and spotted several contacts coming towards them. Just then the radio came to life.

"Strike Force this is Saber One, flight of eight Ustio Phantoms with escort on approach to your 20 from the west. Confirm you see us over." A voice reported.

"Roger that. We'll have our 14s sweep ahead and clear the way." CAG replied.

"Roger, we'll break off our to join em. Galm Team, break off and follow Firebird flight." The Ustio leader replied.

The six Tomcats hit the gas and aimed their noses towards the west half of the canal, where the Belkans had an air base. They were joined by the Ustio's escort, made up of two F-15C Eagles (two of the few Ustio owned) and a pair of Mirage F1EQs. Ryan looked at one of the Eagles, which had its right wing painted red. The other had rather fanciful blue markings on it.

"I hear that some of the Ustio pilots are mercs." Razor said.

"Yeah, and they're supposed to be pretty good." Ryan replied.

"Firebird flight, heads up! Costal radars are beginning to paint you guys. Stay evasive until Axe Flight can clean em out." Eagle Eye advised.

The now familiar sound of the ECM gear coming to life sounded in Ryan's ear.

"Galm 1 to Galm 2, drop your tanks and head for the deck. You Oseans will do the same thing if you wanna live." The lead F-15 said.

"Pixy Roger." The second F-15 replied.

Ryan dropped his tanks and he and Tom, along with the other four F-14s, went inverted towards the sea. Just in front of them four F/A-18C Hornets of VFA-28, The Warlords, were seeking out the air defenses to silence them with AGM-88 HARMs. Radio chatter was picking up as the Iron Hand F/A-18s started getting good tones.

"Axe 407, Magnum!"

"Axe 412 Magnum!"

"Axe flight, Scrambler 602 here, we'll see if we can't lower the risk a little more for you."

"We appreciate that Scrambler!"

Ryan looked over at Tom as they approached the coast. The Hornets had managed to open up a gap in the wall of AA defense for the fighters to get through to the airfield.

"Ready for some revenge Bull?" he asked.

"You bet." His wingman replied.

"Firebird 102, Axe 401, we'll send a pair of our flight with you to get the airfield's defense, how copy?" the leader of the Iron Hand flight radioed. LCDR. Don "Scarface" Marino, VF-115's XO, replied with a "roger that".

Ryan dropped his fuel tanks and raised his altitude a little. Suddenly he heard Razor let out an exclamation.

"Bastards have some heavy ECM down there." He observed.

"How bad's it affecting us?" he asked.

"Ah I can try and beat it but our Sparrows aren't gonna be as reliable now." The RIO reported.

"What about our 54s?" Ryan asked.

"Same deal. Uh CAG, think you can divert a couple of 18s to hit those ECM towers? They're gonna screw the whole op unless we can zap em." Razor asked.

"We're on it Firebird 105, just be patient." CAG replied.

The F-14s spilt up, and Ryan selected his Sidewinders as they came upon the airfield. He could see the two F-15s circling above it.

"Heads up, I see two MiG-29s warming up on the runway!" Galm 2, or Pixy, called out. Tom immediately jumped at the chance.

"They're mine!" he called, shooting ahead.

"Roger, I'll take trail 104." Ryan allowed.

The two came in low on the airfield. Higher up puffs of black smoke erupted as AA guns tried to swat down the marauding Allies. Ryan spotted two specs on the runway moving forward.

"Tallyho, two Fulcrums rolling!" Samurai reported. Ryan watched as Tom went in, and strafed the runway with his cannon, hoping to get the MiGs before they were airborne. But the cannon fire was just short of the bandits, and they rolled on.

"Ah shit, missed!" Tom vented.

"Galm 1 here, we'll get em." The lead F-15, referred to as "Cipher" by Pixy, called. Ryan heard Tom mumbled a little at the lost chance.

Ryan watched in his mirrors as the two F-15s went after the MiGs. The two F-14s grabbed some sky and came back over the airfield.

"Heads up, more Fulcrums are getting airborne. Firebird Flight, engage!" Marino ordered.

Ryan and Tom banked right and came down on a pair of MiG-29s that had gotten airborne. For once Ryan wished his Sparrows were working. Just then Razor spoke up.

"Radar's back on!" he called.

Ryan wasted no time going to Sparrows. The MiGs didn't know the two Tomcats were where they were, why not lose some weight?

Razor went as fast as he could, and soon enough the TD box inside the AIM-7's guidance circle was red.

"Firebird 105, Fox 1!" Ryan shouted.

The two wing-mounted AIM-7s fell away and went forward. Ryan steadily pulled back on the stick, keeping the MiG in his sights. Tom had two Sparrows away as well. Ryan coaxed his weapons on. They closed in on the now maneuvering MiG, and a second later encompassed the fighter in a fireball. When Tom's did the same, he let out a loud howl.

The two F-14s then leveled out and flew over their kills. The attackers were rolling in now, hinted by the fact of one Ustio pilot's call

"There's the signal to attack. I've waited a long time for this day."

Ryan came around and spotted two more Fulcrums going vertical towards him and Tom.

"Heads up Bull, two more 29s coming up to meet us." Ryan called out.

"I see em." Tom assured.

Ryan yanked the stick hard to counter the move, but the AIM-54s hanging on the belly station made the maneuver just a little slower than the pilot would've preferred. He went right in front of the MiGs, prompting a burst of 30mm from the lead jet. Razor watched them go by, and looked for Tom, who was coming around for a shot. Ryan broke left to help his friend.

"Okay, I'll take the lead guy." Ryan called as he waited for Sidewinder lock.

"Gotchca, second guy's mine." Tom agreed.

Ryan went after the lead Fulcrum as it broke right. Its wingman turned towards his tail to shoot an Aphid.

"104 hurry up and get that guy!" Razor shouted as he visually tracked the trailing MiG.

The right wing of Tom and Samurai's F-14 lit up and the MiG broke right as an AIM-9 came after him. At the same time the MiG got off an Aphid, but a quick jink sent it away from the F-14. The MiG took the Sidewinder in the tail and fell earthwards.

"Firebird 105 your tail is clear." Samurai assured.

"Next time shoot faster Samurai." Razor replied. A calm "Understood." was Sousuke's reply.

Ryan followed the MiG as it went back down towards the desert. The fighters leveled out and went screaming over the dunes at 3000 feet. Ryan watched as his starboard AIM-9 got lock and he let it loose. The Belkan broke right and went upwards in a spiraling path. Ryan was immediately after him. They were heading back towards the airfield.

"How're we doing on fuel Razor?" Ryan asked.

"We're still good." He assured.

Ryan gave a "roger that" and rested his thumb on the launch button. His fifth kill, and ace status, hung in the balance. Ryan shot off the AIM-9. The MiG was far from defeat however. He slid right and shot off more flares, pulling a barrel roll to further overwhelm the missile. Ryan frowned as his AIM-9 fell away.

"Well, looks like we'll have to gun him Razor." Ryan observed. Ryan selected the 20mm cannon and watched as the pipper, the guns reticule, came onto the HUD.

The two jets came back towards the airfield, where the F/A-18 strikers were busy putting laser-guided bombs onto the instillation's buildings and aircraft bunkers. The Fulcrum, a good pilot Ryan had to admit, used the crowded skies to his advantage. He flew over a pair of F/A-18s in a dive and then rolled inverted so they were between him and Ryan. The Osean mirrored the movement the best he could, but still got a stream of colorful language from the Hornet pilots for how close he went by. When he regained view of the MiG, the Belkan appeared to be turning towards him. Ryan banked right to get him, but noticed one of the Mirages. The MiG came at it.

"I've got one on my tail!" The pilot cried.

"Hold on Cheetah 2, I'm on him." Ryan assured as he rolled and came down towards the two.

"Shit, I can't get the angle Cheetah 2." Ryan said as he came down.

"Well hurry up and get it!" the Ustio pilot shouted.

Ryan eased back the throttles as far as he dared and swung the nose towards the MiG. He still couldn't get a good shot.

"Cheetah 2, go vertical on three so I can get a shot!" Ryan ordered.

"Roger!" the F1 pilot replied.

Ryan leveled out and counted down, his trigger finger ready.

Three…

Two…

One…

"Do it!" Ryan barked.

The Mirage pilot went vertical, the Fulcrum in hot pursuit. Ryan jammed back the trigger. The six-barreled cannon spewed bullets. Ryan heard the muffled chainsaw imitation. He watched as the MiG flew right through the stream. Ryan then watched with growing anticipation as it slowed, and then fell back.

"Whoo-hoo! Yeah! That's five baby!" Razor howled.

"I heard that!" Ryan agreed as he leveled the plane, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Look like you Oseans aren't so bad after all." Pixy added…

Ryan never got to the ground when exited the F-14. Tom was waiting for him and was quick to hoist him on his shoulders. Razor was held up on Walker's shoulders. Below half the deck crew and those who'd landed were screaming and cheering about CVW-5's first ace crew of the war. Ryan shook hands with about a dozen sailors before he was let down. He shook hands with Walker and CAG too before in the spirit of such events, the CO of the carrier, Captain Richard Grey, ordered that a bottle of champagne be called up for the two aviators while they rehashed the event with him. But rather it was shaken up and the two aviators were given the traditional hosing. Afterwards, as another ace had put his and his RIO's celebration of achieving his fifth kill, "And that night we had a party in the club I think you would've enjoyed!"


	6. Chapter 5: The Magnificent Twelve

_Chp. 5: The Magnificent Twelve_

Ryan walked into the ready room as the carrier along with her sister ship _Kestrel _steamed through the Futuro Canal. The two ships had sent several of their escorts ahead to secure the north end after Kestrel's jets had laid waste to the Belkan fleet sitting there.

Still written in big letters on the white board was "Ryan and Razor: Five, Belka: Zero", although Ryan had long washed the sweat and smell of alcohol away. With flight ops being suspended until they got further north, the room was empty apart from a few aviators. Lt. Tim "Irish" Burchardt was manning the duty officer's desk.

"Evening Irish." Ryan said as he put his letter to May in the mailbox.

"Evenin Rocky." The man drawled in his namesake's voice. He noticed the envelope.

"Letter to your lady?" he asked. Ryan nodded and walked to his seat just down the aisle.

Up towards the front, Jack, Tom and even Marino were busy with a game of spades.

"Hey Ace, wanna join?" Tom asked.

"Naw, I'd rather make money through smoker fighting, because I know that someone here likes to sucker less experienced people into games." Ryan replied knowingly. Tom was secretly an expert at probability and things like that.

Ryan turned his attention to the TV. It showed a reporter standing in front of Osean troops exiting helicopters.

_"Osean marines have captured vital oil fields here in the Futuro Straits after Allied Forces launched a massive strike on the canal. Off camera but well in view the Oseans move two of their aircraft carriers north to help support the Liberation of Ustio, to which Sapin, Osea, and even small contingents of ISAF have committed to."_

Ryan looked away from the TV and let out a long breath. Now came the real hurdles.

"So why are we going north again sir?" Tom asked. Marino played his hand.

"We gotta hit Belka where it hurts Bull. Hawk can deal with air ops in Ustio by itself, we need all the firepower we can train on Belka, those guys've gotta have a lot of missiles and AA guns set up." The XO explained.

"Even worse than Cholina?" Ryan asked, remembering what his dad had said about that countries array of air defense.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Marino replied…

Walker cleared his throat as the projector came on.

"The Belkan's Air Defense System is one of the most complex in the world. It consists of hundreds of SAM and AA sites working in conjunction with one another as well as the Belkan AF's Air Defense Command fighter squadrons."

An image showing Belkan came up, with the major sites highlighted by red triangles.

"The Belkans concentrate the heaviest amounts of steel along its perimeter of course. With this way of going about it they aim to knock down intruders before they can even call feet dry." The commander grimaced.

"But there's one major flaw in the system." Walker said, holding up his right index finger.

"All that along the outer edge means there's less to cover the inner areas. The Belkans have most of their internal defenses spread around cities and important areas. To help back this up, this realm is where most of their air defense fighters patrol."

"These fighters are mostly interceptor class birds, so their close-in dogfighting abilities are not as good as a MiG-29 or Mirage 2000, but that's no excuse to get sloppy." Walker continued, his tone firm on the last statement.

Several slides then played through detailing the different fighters, SAMs, and AA guns. Most were MiGs, ZSUs, and SA series weapons, purchased from Yuktobania before Belka's leaders lost it.

"In conclusion we're facing a formidable hurdle, but HQ needs us running an interdiction campaign to help push the Belkans back, so we gotta brave it boys." Walker concluded. He asked if any question were present, and when no hands rose, dismissed his 23 subordinates.

"The way it looks I might as well be wiping my ass with a hornet's nest." Tom remarked as he and Ryan made their way down the hall.

"Yeah but only when we're going feet dry and feet wet, and I'm sure the planning guys already have ideas about how they're gonna deal with that problem." Ryan replied.

Above the whining sound of a jet engine exploded as the #2 catapult fired, hurling one of CVW-5's jets into the sky. Whenever Ryan heard that, it sent a wave of excitement through his bones.

That night in the squadron ready room they watched "True Grit" before the newest flight schedule was posted. Ryan and Razor had been commissioned for another strike escort…

Ryan and Razor walked along the flight deck, helmets already on. Ryan glanced towards a pair of F/A-18 Hornets as red-shirted ordnancemen, or boys actually, lifted up the 500lb bombs fitted with laser guidance heads and fins to the wing pylons of the fighter bombers. The weapons were intended for a large chemical weapons plant situated in the mountains of East Belka.

The pilot looked down at his F-14 as the front starboard elevator brought it up from the hangar deck. When they got closer Ryan recognized Washington as the man hung out of the cockpit, looking through it to ensure all was in order.

"Hey Wash! How'd you like to fly today?" Ryan shouted jokingly. The petty officer pulled his torso out of the cockpit and laughed.

"Oh no Mister Bradford, I just keep her in order." He smiled.

"That you do Wash." Razor called as he rested his hands on the port Sparrow and shook it to make sure it was in place.

Ryan came around to the other side and looked at the gun port. There were still the faint soot stains from its recent firing a few days ago.

After inspection and pre-flight checks, the six escorting Tomcats and mission's Hawkeye (which had its own two escorts) were taxing to launch. The six Hornets and a pair of Prowlers would follow close behind. The mission commander would be the lead F/A-18 pilot.

The group flew southwest through the morning sky from the newly established "November Station" towards the coast.

Inside the front cockpit, Ryan's ears were as they'd been since the bridge strike, weary of the ECM's beeping. Hopefully the two Prowlers would be able to successfully do their job of screwing up the Belkan's radar.

Ryan was less than surprised when he saw the line outline of the coast, they were being lit up. He simply tightened his grip on the control stick and kept calm, glancing briefly at Tom's F-14.

"Okay heads up, we're getting ECM readings here, Scrambler Flight, your up." The E-2 said, breaking the silence. Besides a pair of jamming pods, each EA-6 was packing two HARMs.

"Roger that T-Bird, Scrambler Flight's breaking off." Came a reply.

Ryan watched as the two jets slid underneath. Two of the F-14s broke off to help keep them safe. Ryan looked forward again as the coast came in closer. mountains rose up like the jagged teeth of a monster waiting to swallow his plane whole.

"SAM in the air, SAM in the air." one of the Hornet pilots reported as the distance closed to just ten miles.

Razor activated the radar and Ryan selected his four AIM-54s. The coast filled his windscreen. Ryan saw two flashes below as SAMs got airborne. He simply hit the gas to avoid getting tracked, Tom close behind.

"Firebird 105 feet dry." Ryan called.

"104's the same." Tom announced immediately after.

Ryan looked down at the mountains below as the others came across. He was officially over Belkan land.

"Okay Cutlass Flight, ascend to 12000 and begin approach." The mission commander ordered.

Ryan and Tom also grabbed some sky in case the Belkans decided to come in from above…

LCDR. Sam Campbell, the XO of VFA-215, lead his fellow "Steel Fist" pilots across the gray mountains and onto the target that awaited them. Each

F/A-18 carried two GBU-12 laser-guided bombs and the pods necessary to deliver them. The Paveway as it was nicknamed was accurate, but only as long as the laser was trained on the target.

The veteran A-7 pilot selected the laser pod secured to the left fuselage pylon and aimed the laser downwards. He looked out his cockpit for the weapons plant, then over at his weapons display. He switched to the camera on his right, and it trained just as the laser did.

Campbell then made a shallow dive below the clouds, the other Hornets following in pairs at full throttle. It was still twenty miles to the target, and each minute gave the Belkans more time to react. As the group broke 10 miles to target, the E-2 came on the radio.

"This is T-Bird, all flights be advised, all flights be advised. We're picking up several contacts in the area. Vector 195 at 80 miles, angels 4." The E-2 reported…

Ryan glanced down at his radar, then his altimeter.

"These guys are going pretty damn low." He remarked. The pilot looked over at his wingman

"You with me Bull?" he asked.

"Roger that." Tom replied.

The two F-14s broke formation and pointed their noses towards the threats. Ryan selected his AIM-54s, not wanting to deal with the weight, and waited for Razor to get lock on's. The AWG-9 could target up to six other jets at a time, and engage just as many.

"Okay, they're locked." The RIO announced.

"Roger, Firebird 105, Fox 3!" Ryan called.

two big missiles dropped away. Tom followed up with his own salvo of two.

Ryan then dropped his tanks and began to maneuver, incase the bandits could reach as far as them. Tom followed him as the two barrel rolled.

"Okay, first one's coming in…it missed!" Razor reported.

"Second one?" Ryan asked.

"Same thing, damn these guys sure know what they're doing…" Razor commented.

Ryan felt his muscle tense as the ECM told him enemy radars were active.

"Cutlass 302 to T-Bird, we're beginning our final approach." The lead Hornet announced.

"Roger 302."

Minutes later pilots started calling "bombs away". weapons released from pylons and rode the invisible beams downwards onto the warehouses and storage centers. Other came on AA guns that were sending up tracers to defend the facility. Gun cameras recorded the distinct thermal forage of small dots hitting targets before causing a massive explosion of white.

While the Hornets did their job, Ryan looked left and right for the bandits. He saw no specs or glints. The pilot glanced at his radar display. They were well within the Belkan's missile range, yet they were neither shooting nor visible.

"T-Bird reaffirm the bandits' angels." Ryan asked. There was a moment before the controller replied.

"Angels have changed to…2, repeat 2." He announced uneasily.

_"Two?!"_ Ryan thought. Just then Irish came on the radio.

"The whole damn mountain valley's coming alive!" he said.

Ryan looked down at the ground to see twelve specs seem to rise from the dirt and rock. His head whirled from left to right as they flashed by, a few so close they shook his plane. He managed to catch a glimpse of one as it got further away. he recognized the delta-shaped wings of a MiG-21bis Fishbed. It was essentially the F-20's Yuktobanian counterpart: a simple but very maneuverable interceptor and light fighter. Ryan's dad had faced the plane in Ursean hands and had respected it. This one was painted black with the outer half of its wings red.

Ryan had no time to wonder about the paintjob though. He called for Tom to break and immediately went vertical after the MiG, selecting his AIM-9s. The MiG was already maneuvering to counter him. It went for the deck. Ryan pulled back on the stick and went after it. He looked down from his cockpit as the Fishbed dared him to give chase. Ryan accepted.

"T-Bird have been engaged by multiple bandits, count at least 12 MiG-21s." Irish's RIO, Beef, reported.

"They've got these weird arse markings too." Irish added.

Ryan came down and after the MiG as it leveled out. He kept a close eye on the mountains below, not wanting to smash into the jagged triangles.

"These guys gotta be Belkan aces. They're about the only people I could think of who paint their planes like this." Razor commented.

"Yeah." Ryan agreed.

The F-14 came down at the MiG-21 as the latter made a right turn. Ryan stayed on him the best he could; the guy wasn't an ace for nothing. The Fishbed was making every effort to force Ryan's plane to lose energy. Finally at the absolute edge of stall speed, Ryan was forced to break off chase. The Belkan seized the opportunity.

"He's coming at us." Razor called out.

Ryan hit the gas. If he couldn't out turn the thing he'd outrun him. the two engines screamed with power as they propelled the F-14 past mach one. Vapor exploded around the Tomcat. The MiG lit its own afterburner and gave pursuit and shot an Aphid at the Tomcat's bright afterburners.

"Missile inbound, break left!" Razor exclaimed.

Ryan yanked the stick and the big fighter heaved where he wanted it to, not being as maneuverable at Mach 1.3. He hit the countermeasures and let off a burst of flares to decoy the missile. He managed a sigh of relief as the weapon took the bait, but the MiG pilot was far from done. It fired again.

"Another one!" Razor called. More flares away Ryan thought.

"Firebird 110 Fox 2!"

Suddenly the MiG broke left. Ryan watched him go and looked up as Irish's F-14 came screaming down at the Fishbed. The jet cut and ran, Irish in hot pursuit.

"Rocky, Razor your tail's clear." Beef called.

"Thanks Beef." Ryan called.

Ryan looked forward and spotted another missile trail. He squinted his eyes and saw an F/A-18 being tailed by one of the MiGs. Ryan immediately came to the rescue of the jet, shooting a Sidewinder at the Fishbed. It broke away from the F/A-18, which went after it. Ryan hoped to claim it as his, but the Hornet pilot, out of pilot's pride, wasn't about to be beaten by the F-14 pilot.

Ryan felt his chances slipping away. Like the F/A-18 guy, pilots pride prevented him from going home without scoring against an ace squadron.

Just then he noticed a glint to his right. Ryan looked over to see a MiG-21 coming at him. suddenly tracers began to flash by. Ryan immediately gained altitude to avoid them as the MiG and him passed each other. Ryan went for it. he came right and armed his other AIM-9. The MiG broke right and down into the mountains. Ryan followed close behind.

"Whoa, whoa easy man! Watch it!" Razor shouted, getting a little nervous.

Ryan and the MiG snaked along the valley, mountains flashing by. The pilot stayed low to the ground, treetops mere feet from its underbelly. The F-14 pilot kept his distance from the trees though. He knew the Belkan was trying to get him to play chicken, but it wasn't going to work.

Ryan waited patiently for his Sidewinder to get a lock. When the TD Box and diamond merged, he fired.

The MiG was closing in on a ridge that stood in his way. He began to pull up to avoid it, but at the same time the Sidewinder had him locked. It was either a face full of rocks or a tailpipe full of hot explosives.

Ryan watched as the missile closed in. he saw the canopy come off and a tiny spec shoot upwards as the missile struck the Fishbed. Seconds later, as the square parachute opened, the Fishbed was struck by Ryan's Sidewinder. He immediately pulled up to avoid the wreckage, and watched as the pilot drifted down into the valley below. Ryan grinned and as he looked forward noticed the mountains coming in fast. He let out a little colorful language over the radio and pulled back on the stick, narrowly avoiding the mountains. When they were clear and the numbers against the Belkans, the strike forced bowed out and headed back towards the coast. When they returned it was revealed who the Belkans had been. The were one of the countries top squadrons in the Air Defense Command sector, the 223rd fighter squadron, better known as "Hazier Team". More like the Has Been Team Tom later remarked


	7. Chapter 6: Happy Snapshots

_Chp. 6: Happy Snapshots_

_ May held the letter in her hand tentatively. About a dozen questions flew through her mind. Was she being too blunt? What if he said no? May closed her eyes and shook her head. She was being too doubtful of herself._

_ The light rail stopped, and the young woman got to her feet and followed the crowd out onto the platform. She managed to get through the people and once she was past the security gates, could move much more freely. The walk to the high school was shorter than it seemed. May had wished it'd at least felt longer._

_ She walked into the shoe lockers and down the middle aisle to the one marked 307. Quickly and discretely the brunette slid the envelope through one of the vents and walked off, trying to be as inconspicuous as she could. If he was already here she didn't want to see his reaction firsthand._

_ About a minute or two later Ryan came down the same aisle to his locker, adjusting the tie around his neck. He didn't like having to wear the academy's uniform, but at least it was somewhat comfortable._

_ He set down his bag and turned the dial on the lock, silently mouthing his combination. The locker popped open and Ryan reached in for his uniform shoes. But his hand hit something made of paper. He looked inside and found an envelope. Curious, he extracted it and examined the thing. Was Izzy playing a prank on him?_

_ Ryan ripped open the top of the envelope and extracted a folded piece of paper. He opened it up to find a letter. He began to read it, but quickly found it wasn't one of Izzy's pranks. He also felt himself getting just a little pink. He could tell it was a girls handwriting, but he couldn't place it. But whoever it was didn't matter. The note asked him to meet the girl after school._

_ Ryan slid the paper in his bag and walked into the hall beyond. Today had just gotten interesting he thought. That afternoon, it got even more so when May was the girl waiting for him…_

May was still dreaming when Kari came bolting down the hall.

"It's free! It's free! It's free!" she announced very loudly.

The woman opened he eyes and sat up, the blankets falling to the bed. The door came open.

"It's free May!" she announced.

"What's free Kari?" she asked, realizing the dream about her love confession to him eleven years ago had been induced by Ryan's absence.

"Ustio!" she shouted. May sat up straight and put on her glasses.

"It is?" she gasped.

"Yeah, maybe it means Uncle Ryan will come home!" Kari exclaimed, running back into the hall. May smiled, but sadly. She had a gut feeling Ryan was still far from home.

She got to her feet and straightened the t-shirt (formerly Ryan's) against her thighs. Downstairs the TV was on the news, as it had been since the war had started. Images of people cheering and shouting as Osean tanks rolled down the streets filled the screen. Belkan and Osean flags were waved by young children. It was such a happy sight. May didn't know what it was like to be liberated from occupation, but she could feel what Kari had as she walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning Sam." May said

"Good morning May." Her friend replied…

The formation of Osean F-15E Strike Eagles broke apart as they came towards the Belkan airfield. Ahead the escorting F-15Cs lit their afterburners and kicked away their drop tanks.

"Wild Weasel flights cleaned up the SAMs and AA." Captain Scott McCampbell heard the lead F-15E call as he carefully came down from 12000 to 7000 feet. He glanced back at his Weapon Systems Operator (WSO), 1Lt. Mike Hampton.

"How's she looking Ham?" he asked.

"FLIR's still working." The man said with a thumbs up.

Scott pressed a button on his weapons panel and selected one of the GBU-12 Paveway laser-guided bombs hanging on the fuselage pylons. In the back Mike was busy directing the F-15's laser targeting pod at an IL-76 transport parked on the tarmac. He centered it in the crosshairs and looked up at Scott.

"Footloose 2-7, bomb's away." Scott called as he pressed the button. The weapon fell away and its fins popped out. Mike pumped his fist when it impacted.

"Heads up, two MiG-29s heading towards the runway." Scott's wingman called.

The pilot tilted his plane and spotted two smaller jets moving. Another Strike Eagle came in and dropped two Paveways, one on the jets and the other on the strip of concrete between the tarmac and runway.

"Splash two on the ground Footloose 2-5." The flight lead called.

Scott went past the airfield and banked left to come around for another run.

"Okay Ham what's next?" he asked.

"Aircraft bunker next to that Candid." The WSO replied.

Scott came in and punched off another GBU. He pulled up and came around, two weapons remaining. Just then he heard someone exclaim.

"What is that?!"

Just then a bright blue light flashed out in the distance. After a few seconds it disappeared

"Badger 1-9's no longer on radar, anyone see him?!"

"Negative I don't see a chute…hell I don't even see his plane!"

"Top Hat this is Badger 1-1, we've lost an Eagle, get the word to SAR." The lead fighter radioed. Another beam of light.

"Here it comes again!"

"Badger 1-8 and 1-4 are gone too!" someone called. just then another voice came on the radio.

"All planes this is Top Hat, bug out and return to base, bug out and return to base!" the E-3 controlling the mission was barking.

Scott pushed forward the throttles and began to run south towards Sapin. The other Strike Eagles were doing the same, more than eager to escape whatever was attacking them. Suddenly and without a second of warning, a long straight beam fell from above directly in front of Scott and Mike's F-15. The pilot let out a scream and shielded his eyes as the beam literally vaporized jet and crew.

Far away aboard the E-3, the head controller was furious.

"What do you mean they just disappeared?" he barked. The young controller threw his hands up, eyes as wide as saucers.

"They just did sir, the Ravens say their ECM gears is going ape shit!" he replied, referring to the pair of EF-111s that had been giving the strikers electronic cover.

"Get the word to HQ about what just happened." The head controller ordered, turning his attention to the communications officer…

Ryan and Tom both stood on vultures row aboard the _Stinger_, watching as the latest strike recovered. The wind generated by the ships speed had persuaded both men to put on their Nomex flight jackets despite the fact it was summer.

"I heard some laser's been hampering air ops inside Belka." Tom shouted as the last jet, and A-6 Intruder, snagged the third wire.

"Did you say a laser?" Ryan replied. The other pilot nodded.

"Yeah, guys see this blue light and bam!" he said, punching his palm.

"Jeez." Ryan replied.

"It's so bad in fact they've suspended any sorties into Belka until further notice." Buck added from the left.

"Will that even do anything sir? Can't whatever this thing is just get us on the ground?" Ryan asked.

"We're not sure, so far as I've heard it can't get anything outside Belka's borders." The Operations Officer said. Ryan looked back down at the deck as the Intruder was parked near the bow.

Ryan looked back at the sea as the evening sun reflected on it. In the distance two of the carrier's escorting Cruisers moved slowly along, leaving a foamy wake behind. It was strange how peaceful the surroundings could be when you were at war, in fact they seemed to be more like that right now.

"Well whatever shoots that damn laser, I hope they blow it back to the Stone Age." Tom muttered, sticking a cigarette in his mouth. He extracted his Zippo and lit the end of the white and brown cylinder…

"What do you mean the damn missile didn't hit?!" the Commander of Allied Air Forces, Lieutenant General Timothy Shawn, barked.

"The Belkans managed to detect it and shoot it down General, it's as simple as that." Vice Admiral George Sharp, CINC of Osea's Pacific Fleet replied.

"I thought those Tomahawks flew really low Admiral." The General asked, having calmed down.

"They do, but as I said the Belkan's shot it down." Sharp repeated yet again.

"Is there the possibility we could send in a SF team?" the Admiral suggested to LTG. Fred North, CINC Allied Ground Forces. The gray-haired man shook his head.

"It's too heavily guarded and we couldn't get them close enough without the Belkans frying them."

"Gentlemen before we can even attack this weapon we need to get a detailed profile on It." the man at the head of the table said. He was General Hal Reinhart. The others fell silent.

The weapon the men were talking about was called Excalibur. It was a chemical laser, mounted atop a sword shaped tower that was taller than any skyscraper and could destroy anything it shot at within Belka's borders. The Belkans had only used it when Allied ground forces had pushed onto their soil. Now that it was operational, any and all flight operations had been restricted, with the one exception of Stealth aircraft.

"We tried that sir. Tried sending an SR-71 over it, same result as the Tomahawk." General Shawn reported.

"Then we need to approach it in a different way." General Reinhart said.

"Any suggestions?" he added, looking at the faces.

"We need to do something that would be unexpected sir. Something the Belkans would deem to crazy or stupid to be performed by us." General Edmond Dawson, CINC of Ustio forces, said.

"I'm listening…" Reinhart said.

"Something like sending in an aircraft at low altitude?" General Juan Pérez, Sapin forces CINC, said. Dawson nodded.

"Makes me wish we hadn't retired the RF-4 last year." General Shawn muttered.

"We should probably have several jets go so we can get multiple angles." Admiral Sharp said.

"Well what jet would we send in?" Reinhart spoke up.

"All of our RF-5s were destroyed on the ground on the first day." Dawson said.

"Mirage F1?" Pérez suggested. Reinhart nodded.

"We could send in a TARPS-equipped F-14, that way if needed it can fight its way out." Sharp chimed in. Reinhart nodded and leaned forward.

"Why not both?" he said with a hint of a grin. The Admiral and General exchanged glanced, and both nodded.

"Okay, get a briefing and orders to a pair of units. Include anything we know about this damned thing and how we can avoid losing the jets." General Reinhart said in finality…

"Hey Rocky, Skipper's looking for you."

Ryan looked up from the letter to May he was writing at Tom.

"Skipper?" he replied. His roommate nodded.

"Told you to get your ass down to the ready room pronto."

Ryan stood up hesitantly and put the unfinished letter in hi drawer of the fling cabinet. He walked past Tom and into the hallway. Waiting for him in the ready room were Walker, Razor, Buck and his RIO Sammy Dwight.

"Sir." Ryan saluted as he came up close enough.

"At ease son." Walker replied. Ryan took a seat and noticed the squadron senior intelligence chief, Rick Isaac. The man stood up, a file in his hand.

"Okay now that everyone's here, Allied HQ has sent down orders for a recon hop over the Belkan super weapon Excalibur in order to put together a strike on it." Walker began. The projector fired up and Isaac put a satellite image on the screen.

"This is the weapon itself, but in order to destroy it more detailed and closer images are needed. Command believes that aircraft flying at low altitude at night should provide sufficient cover." He continued.

"What about radar sir?" Buck asked, leaning forward.

"Sorry Buck, didn't get any details on that, but they did assure us they'll find a way." Walker said to the Operations Officer. The man nodded and sat back in his seat.

"You two will be flying this mission alongside a pair of Sapin reconnaissance Mirages. They'll make their run south to north while you two go east to west." He outlined, paths draw by a marker Isaac had.

"Wait a minute sir, I've never even flown TARPS before, not even a training hop." Ryan protested. Walker looked at him.

"Well Razor's trained on it, and these two have flown a couple, so you should be fine." Walker said in a "that's that" tone. Ryan, like Buck had, nodded and sat back.

"We'll have y'all launch at dusk so you can get as much night as you can, so y'all don't actually have to suit up for about another three hours." Walker said in conclusion.

Afterwards the four aviators spent a good hour going over the flight plan and the terrain. There was next to no room for error or unknown. They needed to know exactly how they were gonna do this…

That evening two special pieces of equipment were lifted up from the hangar deck along with the usual ordnance for the evening launch. Two six-man teams ran over to the two things and began to wheel them across the deck to the two F-14s as they received fuel for the nights sortie. The long cigar-shaped pods were rolled underneath the planes to be fitted to the forward rear belly station.

Ryan stopped his inspection a minute and watched as the men lifted up the TARPS pod. To him it was a bit of a bothersome thing that the Tomcat served as the Navy's primary reconnaissance platform. Oh well, somebody had to do it. Ryan continued on with his inspection. He momentarily glanced at the new nose art of the Tomcat that had been applied a little after he made ace: a single yellow thunderbolt with the word "Thud II" above it. Ryan's dad had painted Thud on his F-14 with the same lightning bolt.

Once inside and readied, the two F-14s were launched ahead of the evening cycle due to the priority of the mission. They would meet a KA-6 near the coast and top off before going in.

Unlike most of his missions, Ryan felt a deeper sense of fear than before. He only had two AIM-9s and his gun. Had this been a routine TARPS hop he'd have an escort of F-14s for protection, as well as a HARM equipped F/A-18 to deal with SAMs and a A-6E loaded with cluster bombs in case of AA guns, and an EA-6 to assist those two. But this time it was just him and Buck.

The two F-14s got to the tanker and topped off as planned before moving on.

"Ready for some fun?" Razor asked. Ryan glanced at him in the mirrors.

"Define fun." He grinned, hoping to lighten the mood.

The pilot depressed the control stick and felt his plane descend. He had no radar on, and with his HGU-33 helmet not able to mount night vision goggles, the pilot would have to fly with his instruments. He was already feeling sweat gentle going down his neck. It almost tickled.

"Passing the coast." Razor called out. Ryan glanced quickly to the right and saw the faint outline of mountains. He looked back at his altimeter, bathed in the red cockpit light. The F-14 cruised along at 5000 feet.

Ryan looked forward again and steadied himself. In the back Razor was keeping a bead on Buck, who flew about a mile to their east.

"Okay, E-2 data link says we're to descend to 3000 in two minutes." Razor updated.

"I sure hope they have a plan to take out the radar covering that thing or else the only thing they'll find of us is our atoms." Ryan commented…

High above and far ahead of the two F-14s, a pair of F-117 Nighthawks drifted through the sky. Despite the restriction on sorties, the stealth jets could still fly at night, continuing the war against Belka. Tonight each had the task of delivering their weapons onto the radar facility that covered Excalibur.

In the cockpit of the lead plane, the pilot watched his radar display as they came towards the target. His finger gently pushed a button on the weapons panel and armed the two GBU-24 laser-guided bombs sitting in the weapons bays. He wanted to preserve his stealth capabilities as much as possible, so he didn't open the bays when he armed them.

"Two minutes to drop, lase target." He said to his wingman.

In each F-117's nose the laser beam shot out and bathed the dishes 10000 feet below in its rays. A minute later the bays came open, and the bombs sailed away…

Ryan felt his anticipation rising as they were told the target was closing in. his fingers danced on the stick and throttles, preparing his mind for the most terrifying photo-run he'd ever make.

"E-2 says radar is no longer a problem, but to keep from transmitting in case the SAMs go to their own." Razor called.

"Gotcha, camera ready man?" Ryan asked.

Yep, go ahead and tilt her." The RIO replied with a thumbs up.

Ryan nodded and gently titled the F-14 at an angle so the cameras would be aimed at the weapon.

"Where are those two Mirages?" Ryan asked, even though he knew Razor couldn't answer.

"Nothing from the E-2." Razor replied.

Ryan looked out his canopy at the ground. He couldn't fully see it, but he could imagine the hills flashing by.

"Target's in five minutes." Razor announced.

The pilot's kept his breath steady as he increased the throttles. He needed to go by fast. The engines got loud and two crimson flames erupted behind them. He looked forward and kept the Tomcat perched in its position.

"Three minutes!" Razor called, tension in his voice too. Ryan glanced at May's picture. He really needed her prayers now.

"Yea I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death…" Ryan began, praying himself.

"Two!"

"…I shall fear no evil, for You are with me…"

Ryan could see the faint outline of the massive structure. It rose almost to the heavens, like it was reaching for them.

"One! Mirages making their pass!"

Ryan saw two engine flames zip in front of the weapon. Suddenly the sky lit up. Ryan saw tracers begin to fly upwards. They'd been detected. Screw it Ryan thought with a grimace.

The two F-14s shot by the structure. The TARPS pods, equipped with three cameras each, snapped picture after picture in the two-second pass, revealing all that could be so about the thing.

Ryan saw a small flash of light. He looked left to see a thin blue line dancing back in forth almost like a blade of grass in the wind.

"Rocky! Break right!" Buck shouted, returning his attention to the sky. He grunted in reply and came around. Tracers, 23, 57 and 37 millimeter, flew all over the place, trying to hit him. Ryan went as fast as the engines could carry him away from it all. Just then in his mirrors he saw lightning crawling up the weapon. At it top a light grew. He immediately went low as suddenly a giant beam of light erupted and shot between the F-14s, almost blinding Ryan.

"HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" Razor shouted as it faded.

"I don't wanna know man!" Ryan said as he went for the deck. God please don't fail me now he quietly pleaded.

The two F-14s went back east. Excalibur had fully awoken, and was eager to shoot down the intruders. While orders were given from an IL-76 AWACS plane to the patrolling MiG-29s to pursue them, the laser was warmed up again for a second blast.

With each passing second Ryan could breath easier. That thing could only shoot so far, and the farther he got the better. But when a second burst came, this one closer, he was reminded he couldn't ease up yet.

As they reached the mountains the ECM began to beep. Ryan looked around for fighters, sure the terrain was far too rough for SAMs or AA guns.

"Razor, get our radar on!" he ordered.

"You do your shit, I'll do mine!" he replied, reminding him what his primary concern was.

The display came to life, and Ryan saw two blips coming from ahead at them. He needed support, and he needed it now.

"Outlaw, Outlaw, this is Firebird 105. I've got two bandits bearing down on me and I need support over!" he shouted. There was a minute before the reply came.

"Negative 105, you're still in too deep. Get closer to the coast and we can help." The Hawkeye 's controller replied.

Ryan looked up and out his canopy again and spotted two pairs of engine flames. They flew over and continued in the opposite direction. A minute later the ECM's beeping began to increase.

"They're coming around at us." Razor reported, twisting his body towards them.

"Outlaw, how much longer?" Ryan asked.

"Just keep going 105, just keep going." The E-2 assured.

Ryan looked over and saw the afterburners of Buck's F-14.

"You still with me sir?" Ryan called.

"Yep, you?" Buck replied.

"Got two Bandits on my tail but I'll live." Ryan replied.

He pulled the stick back and ascended as the MiGs came down, the leader shooting an AA-10 Alamo radar-guided missile at him. they were quick to react and came back up from underneath. Ryan rolled inverted and ascended again. The coast was within reach. Just then his HUD went red.

"Break right!" Razor shouted. Ryan did so as another radar guided missile came at him. It missed and went on.

"Outlaw where in the hell are thos-"

"Blackjack 201, Fox 3!"

Ryan stopped as the commander of VF-34, Roy Lodge, shot an AIM-54 at the pursuing Fulcrums. It raced overhead.

"Firebird 105, bug out east, we've got your ass covered." He called.

"Yes sir, we appreciate the help." Ryan smiled.

He then looked forward and headed home as the two better armed Tomcats went after the MiGs. Glancing at his fuel gauge, all he had to worry about now was a night landing.


	8. Chapter 7: The Silver Phantom

_Chp. 7: The Silver Phantom_

Ryan and Razor watched the footage of Excalibur falling earthwards. For all their hard work, the four aviators had not gotten to have the honor of flying as part of the strike to take down the weapon. Instead, said to be a "sign of Ustio's fight against Belka", Ustio jets, apparently lead by a certain pair of mercenary F-15s, made it possible for strikes to resume against Belka.

"Gotta love political influence on these kinds of things." Tom muttered.

"No kidding, we flew the damn recon, why can't we be the ones to hit the place." Ryan agreed. Walker stubbed out his cigarette.

"Y'all boys'll learn that's just how it goes. Navy could've handled the strikes on Al-Asheik back in 86 alone, but it was made sure the Air Force got a piece of the action to make it look like a "team effort" and show it was doin its part." He drawled.

Ryan looked at the screen again as it showed the massive dust cloud drifting upwards. His mind still vividly remembered the laser. The sheer sight was terrifying, and the thought of being burned from existence sent a chill racing up his spine. In a way he was glad he hadn't been part of the raid on Excalibur.

"Ah screw it, who's up for the movie tonight?" Marino spoke up.

"As long as Ripper doesn't make us watch Iron Eagle for the fourth damn time in a row I'm fine." Ryan commented.

Fortunately the wish was granted. About halfway through though, Ryan left and made his way to the hangar deck. He turned his head left and right as sailors tended to the wing's F-14s, F/A-18s, S-3s and A-6s. Almost every jet had some form of mission marking on it, reflecting just how heavily involved the men were in the war. And that also brought another thing: fatigue. It was subtle at the moment, with the low losses they'd sustained (five jets, three men) keeping morale high.

Ryan ended up at the back of the ship, the fan tail. The pilot leaned on the chain railing and stared out at the evening sky. It was one of the few times and places he could really have time to himself on this big ship. He lapsed into deep thought about the future. If he got home he wanted to marry May. The only thing that stood in the way was his job. Would she be able to live with him deploying when he did? Her father had rarely done so, since he'd flown land-based F-4s in the Marines, only ever have gone to sea a few times. Would she ask im to leave the Navy if they were to get married? Ryan shook his head. No Ryan, you're thinking to negatively, he thought. May had always supported his decision, although that might've been changed by this war.

Ryan let out a breath and rested his forehead on the rail. Another con about combat: between flights you thought, and sometimes thought too much. Ryan then went back to his ready room, where he finished up his letter to May. At the end he asked for her honest opinion on what she thought he should do.

Afterwards he went back to the ready room, put it in the box, and then watched the rest of the movie…

It came as a surprise a few days later when the Allied Nations proposed a cessation of hostilities act. Just about every soldier fighting on and over Belka had thought they would've marched all the way to the capital and demanded unconditional surrender by Belka. But…

The ordnancemen were especially busy today as they wheeled fuel tanks and munitions, all of the air-to-air variety, from the ships magazines to the hangar deck. Meanwhile the S-3s and KA-6Ds were being loaded up with refueling stores. Strangely, the regular A-6s and EA-6s remained untouched.

In the ready room meanwhile, the 24 aviators of VF-115 were all staring a single piece of land, miles wide, that was contained within an imaginary circle.

"In short, to help 'persuade' the Belkans to consider the treaty, we've been ordered to take one of their most prized possessions, The Round Table. The Belkans have been holding onto this piece of sky for years, and its loss should smash their morale." Walker explained. It was strange how a piece of sky could be considered a trophy, but it was.

"The only thing guarding it is Belkan jets, the terrain's too rough to put SAMs or AAA. While that is nice, the squadrons that patrol it are some of Belka's best, and consist mostly of MiG-29s." the commander continued. Tom leaned towards him.

"I like what I'm hearing." He whispered with a grin. Walker glanced in Tom's direction but ignored the comment.

"We'll be working in conjunction with Osean AF birds and Ustio fighters to take the air space. Traffic's gonna be heavy so make sure you keep an eye out but balance that with keeping each other covered." Walker reminded them.

And with that he released them to the locker room.

"Let's hope this gamble pays off." Razor commented as he zipped up his flight suit. Ryan nodded.

"Yeah, if not, we won't be aces much longer." He muttered. They grabbed their helmets and began walking towards the door.

"Hey you two, save some for us will yah?" Marino said with a grin as they all left.

Stinger's catapults were in full swing as they launched their fighters. The two F-14 squadrons and the two F/A-18 squadrons contributed six jets each. The rest maintained the fleet perimeter or sat on spare duty. In addition, the A-6 unit's four KA-6s and the four S-3Bs of VS-37 had been loaded up to refuel the jets, although once inland tanker support would be provided by Osean KC-10s. Ryan and Razor had the honor of being one of the eight jets VF-115 would send up.

Ryan watched as the F-14s ahead of him were being shot off of catapults one and two. A plane would launch, and as soon as the Jet Blast Deflector was flat, the next would come rolling forward.

Ryan eased the throttles forward as VF-34's CAG bird, of course piloted by the man it was intended for, went down the track. The catapult officer beckoned him forward. Ryan came up as the shuttle slid back. The launch bar on the F-14 gently slid into place, and the nose gear compressed.

Ryan's fingers tapped the control stick and throttle as the weapons were cleared. Behind him the JBD rose up, blocking the next F-14 from view. When he was signaled, Razor looked at each side of the jet, making sure the wing slats and rudders were moving smoothly.

Ryan glanced at the cat officer as the cat crew scrambled away from the jet. He stood, legs apart, and held up a piece sign. Ryan nodded and went into full afterburner. Then cat officer then saluted him. Ryan returned it and looked forward.

3…2…1…

the catapult fired, and soon the F-14 was airborne. Chalk up another one…

Perhaps the most interesting part of the mission was the route taken. The formation, after hitting the tankers just off the coast, snaked along the western border. Halfway downwards they were transferred to a pair of E-2s from the _Hawk_, while another controlled the fighters from that carrier.

"Dagger flight, this is Ribeye, we've got you boys on radar. Proceed along heading 190 to reach engagement zone." The controller said in a northeastern[1] accent.

"Roger that Ribeye, got a SITREP for us?" CAG asked.

"It ain't looking good sir. Belkans are tearing our boys apart. They really don't wanna give up B7R." the man replied in a tense tone.

"Okay, Swede, you and Duke take your flights and hang back. Ranger Daredevil, take your flights and follow me. We'll try and thin em out from far away." CAG ordered.

"Firebird 101 roger." Walker nodded.

"Blackjack 201 roger." Lodge replied.

"Cutlass 301 roger." CDR. Greg "Swede" Swatzinski agreed.

"Axe 401 roger." CDR. John "Duke" McGavin said.

Ryan and Tom lined up and followed their commander as he had the six Tomcats line up in two rows. On the other side of CAG, almost like some can-can line, VF-34 did the same.

"Okay Ribeye, give our friends a heads up, the cavalry has arrived." CAG radioed.

"Roger that." The E-2 replied.

Razor already had the AWG-9 transmitting and was ready for a Phoenix shot. Ryan glanced out his cockpit at the other jets, then his radar display. There was a whistle over the radio.

"Damn, look at all those bandits!" another F-14 pilot observed.

"Dagger flight this is Sorcerer 401, where in the hell are you?" one of the pilots yelled.

"Hang on, we're locking em now." CAG assured.

Ryan saw TD boxes popping up. Razor had put the radar's ability to lock six targets at the same time to work, assigning one AIM-54 to targets.

"Standby for max range…we're tracking…shoot!" Razor said.

"Firebird 105, Fox 3!" Ryan said as he depressed the launch button several times, pausing between each shot to let each missile get flying.

"Element one, pull up. Element 2, give em hell." Walker ordered.

Ryan tugged back the control stick and gave the F-14 behind him a clear shot. Razor's eyes were glued to the radar screen, waiting patiently for the results of their shots.

"Okay, first one's going in…flying steady…splash one!" Razor said.

"I heard that." Ryan grinned.

"Blackjack 200 to all jets, cleared on heading 190. Punch your tanks and hit it!" CAG radioed.

Ryan, drop tanks tumbling towards Earth, went to afterburner and followed the few dozen contrails towards The Round Table. Down below the reddish brown mountains rose up like jagged teeth, waiting to devour the pour souls that would be shot down.

The sight that lay ahead was one of almost Hollywood proportions. Dozens of jets from both sides streaked through the blue, contrails racing in every possible direction. Parachutes drifted downwards like leaves, still airborne jets zipping by only feet away.

"Tallyho, four bandits at two low." Tom called as they entered the fray. Ryan looked in the direction and saw four MiG-29s skimming along the ground. As they passed under he pulled the Tomcat into a hard left turned and went for it. Tom slid just behind him, keeping their tail clear.

Ryan went for his AIM-7s as Razor changed the radar to Single Target Track. The MiGs spilt into pairs. Ryan went left, Tom right.

"Firebird 105, Fox 1!" Ryan called as he let off his port Sparrow at the MiGs.

It zoomed away, engine motor pushing it through the air. Ryan saw it clip the trailing MiG but fail to explode. The jet fell downwards and went into a flat spin, black smoke trailing from the doomed jet. Bring the count up to eight Ryan thought with a grin.

The second MiG pulled a barrel roll, scattering flares to mask his IR signature. Ryan went to the right and came back around at his prey. The Belkan pilot took advantage of Ryan's move and slid right under the big Tomcat. Ryan reminded himself that the Fulcrum had a bit more of an advantage in the maneuverability aspect.

The MiG then reversed left and gained altitude slowing to get the Osean in his gun sight. Ryan turned into the attack as the MiG fired its cannon. They crisscrossed again in a rolling scissors, each trying to jockey for position.

"Samurai, where are you two?" Razor called.

"Engaged offensive with one MiG-29, we're unable to help." He replied. At least he was still airborne in this mayhem.

The MiG again slowed and went for a missile lock. Ryan was to slow in reacting and a single AA-8 went after him.

"Missile coming in at five high." Razor pointed out.

"Flares away." Ryan called, increasing his speed.

the missile took them and Ryan maneuvered back into the MiG, fighting to re-obtain the advantage.

"Firebird 105, this Ronin 210. I see your bandit, and I'm coming in from six high. Break right and help me engage." Another voice radioed.

Ryan glanced up to see two more specs. He recognized the radio call sign of VF-138, the Red Ronin.

"Roger that 210, hang on." Ryan said as he did so.

From above, the two other F-14s came in, Sidewinders ready to shoot. The lead jet released his. Ryan watched with a quiet grin as the MiG was caught flat footed. The F-14s streaked overhead.

"Much obliged Ronin, I owe you a beer." Ryan replied.

"No prob Firebird." The pilot replied.

Ryan's head was back on a swivel he looked for more bandits. He came over a mountain range and spotted Another F-14 in a turning fight with a MiG-29. As he shot a missile at it. two more Belkan jets came sliding in from above towards his tail. Ryan went after them.

"Ronin 202 you've got a pair of bandits on your tail, Break left." Ryan ordered.

"Roger." The pilot said, taking notice of the new threats. Ryan pulled back the throttles and came in after them, 20mm his main weapon now. The lead MiG went forward and into guns range, trying to get the F-14 before it could run. Ryan pulled lead and fired a burst to ward off the bandit.

"Okay 202, your tail is clear." Ryan called as the MiGs spilt off to avoid becoming Ryan's next kills. As he went after the lead guy a pair of Hornets came in to deal with the other guy.

"Wizard 301 here, we'll take care of this guy." A calm and almost philosophical voice said.

"Got it Wizard, good hunting." Ryan wished.

He followed the MiG as it went vertical and sliced up his left wing with 20mm bullets. The jet fell backwards and under Ryan's path, its pilot ejecting.

"There's number nine." Razor observed.

Ryan came back around towards the fight, watching with satisfaction as the radar display showed more friendlies than bandits. Most Allies by now were heading out to grab some gas and go home.

"I fight for peace, that's what I'm up here for." Someone suddenly said.

"While you're up here "fighting for peace", tons of blood is being shed on the ground. Some peace Kid." The familiar voice of that Ustio merc named "Pixy" retorted.

"And I'm gonna put a stop to It." the younger voice said back.

"You think you can stop bloodshed by shedding more blood? All those ideas swimming around in your head are gonna get you killed." Pixy almost scolded.

Ryan was about to tell the two to shut up and stop playing debate, when the E-2 came over the radio.

"All flights on this channel, all flights on this channel, this is Ribeye, we've got Belkan reinforcements coming into B7R from 270, angels 7, going pretty fast." The controller announced.

"Galm 1 roger. Pixy?" the other Ustio merc, Cipher (or as some of the pilots had begun to call him, the Demon Lord) called.

"Gotcha Buddy." Pixy said.

Ryan looked at his fuel. He still had some time.

"Bull, you still up?" he asked.

"Roger, hang on I'm coming." The pilot replied.

"Galm flight this is Firebird 105. We'll back you boys up." Ryan called as they reformed and headed towards the threat.

"Roger that 105, we appreciate the help." Cipher replied…

Dietrich Kellerman was pissed. Sure, he thought, I'm good enough to be an instructor, sure I'm good enough to be the main pillar of morale for the frontline units, but when pushed comes to shove, I'm just a fucking poster boy on reserve duty! Meanwhile all the young and inexperienced pilots are entrusted to defend B7R? It had been a long time since the fiery old vet had heard of such idiocy.

"Command's telling us to bug out sir."

The Lieutenant Colonel surveyed the landscape before him with disdain. The Round Table was lost, and he'd arrived too late to do anything about it.

"They're fast, follow them." He ordered increasing the throttle. He glanced briefly at his RIO Hans and nodded.

"This will be your final lesson." He told his subordinates…

"Okay, here they come." Razor called.

Ryan scanned the sky for the approaching contacts. He spotted them in a perfect V formation. The jets they flew made his jaw drop open.

"Where in the hell did they get those?!" Tom blurted out as they made out the distinct shapes of four F-16 Falcons flanking an F-4E Phantom.

"I don't think that matters right now." Cipher replied.

Ryan didn't say a thing. He simply went for Sparrow lock. He launched the weapon, keeping his ears and eyes on alert as it came at the formation. The Falcon it was intended for simply maneuvered violently and evaded the shot.

Ryan and Tom again split up as they merged with the Belkans. Cipher and Pixy came in from the right and tried to split them, 20mm guns ablaze. Only then did they spilt up into pairs, their white tiger camo fully visible. Ryan spotted the F-4 going vertical. The Osean aviator came around and pointed hit nose at the jet.

"That Phantom's mine!" Ryan called fiercely.

Ryan went up and after the jet, making sure no one else was on him. He knew that those two mercs would love to zap a nice target for cash and pride. Ryan, out of friendly rivalry, wasn't gonna let that happen.

Kellerman noticed the Osean F-14 in his rearview mirrors. The plane was the Osean Navy's primary fighter, known for its ability to carry the long-range Phoenix missile. He could only see two AIM-9s mounted on its wing pylons.

"Keep an eye on him Hans." The man ordered. Something about the Osean's aggressive nature impressed him.

Ryan followed the F-14 as it went just over a mountain top. Ryan stayed close, but didn't fire. He knew the Belkan was testing him, and it was a chance to show he wasn't some nugget whose cojones were doing the talking.

"Our tail clear Razor?" Ryan asked.

"Yup, worry about that Belkan." The RIO said.

The F-4 then pulled a barrel roll, timing so he went over another mountain inverted. Ryan decided he'd had enough showboating. He went to the right so the F-4's belly was visible, then pulled back on the stick to get a shot. His Sidewinders were searching for tailpipes.

Kellerman was impressed yet again as the ECM began to beep. This Osean was no amateur.

He then foiled the F-14's attack, and his missile lock, by pulling a hard reversal. The F-14 followed behind, trying to get lock back.

"Now it's my turn." The Belkan ace thought.

He abruptly went into the vertical, hitting the speed brakes as he was inverted. The F-14 appeared in his windscreen.

Ryan was surprised when the F-4 made its move. He looked up as the F-4 came down at him. it's 20mm cannon, surrounded by a shark's mouth, began to fire. Ryan wasted no time in evading the tracers. The F-4 came down and after him, switching to his missiles as indicated by the ECM.

"Jeez, he knows how to use that thing." Razor commented, fully turned around.

Ryan waited for him to shoot, knowing full well he was carrying AIM-9s and AIM-7s. Just then the HUD went red.

"Okay, he's got one off." Razor called. The pilot again thumbed the countermeasures button.

"Okay, it's taking em." Razor said with evident relief. Ryan needed to get this guy back in front of him.

"Okay, let's see how well you can compensate for that Phantom's maneuverability." Ryan muttered to himself.

Ryan immediately initiated a vertical rolling scissors. This pilot may have been an ace, but even he couldn't beat one thing: the handling of his plane.

Kellerman followed the Tomcat into the vertical and found himself in a rolling scissors. The Osean pilot then aimed his fighter at the ground. Kellerman maneuvered to get down behind him, but the F-14 had used the precious few seconds of lead to his advantage. When Kellerman was looking at the ground, he had lost sight of the F-14. He looked up to see it behind. He immediately rolled inverted to move inside the attack.

Ryan went wide again and came at the Phantom. His AIM-9 was growling, and the pilot eagerly let it off its leash.

"Firebird 105, Fox 2!" he called as his thumb pressed down.

Kellerman had been bested. He listened to the ECM as the AIM-9 streaked in, too close from the start to dodge. It struck with a violent jolt. Han's head was slammed into the radar screen by the concussion, knocking im out cold. If it hadn't killed him Kellerman thought. He let go of the stick quickly and grabbed the rungs above his head.

"You've impressed this old Colonel, Osean." He admitted as he pulled the ejection handle.

"And that makes ten." Ryan commented as the tiger-striped F-4 went downwards, flames coming from its belly.


	9. Chapter 8: Decisions and Views

_Chp. 8: Decisions and Views_

The first thing Ryan wanted know when he landed was why he and the others had engaged F-16s in Belkan markings. The F-4 had been understandable. Almost half the world's countries, even to an extent Osea, used the jet. But F-16s, now that was an attention grabber. But he should've known the squadron intel department had no clue. After all, they were the_ squadron_ intelligence department, not the CIA.

The story was, he'd later learn, that Belka had tried (before the coup) to purchase the F-16 but couldn't afford enough for more than half a squadron. So, through some industrial espionage, they acquired the blueprints for the jet and built just enough to be a viable force before they'd had to let Ustio, and its rich natural resources, go.

"Man I can't believe how fast you went after that guy. One of those merc Eagles was laughing his ass off practically when he said "Roger that Firebird 105"." Tom smirked as the two left the intelligence department.

"Yeah well I wasn't about to let those two get all the glory." Ryan grinned.

After that Ryan made his way back to his quarters. There he found another letter from May.

_Dear Ryan,_

_ I heard yesterday that the Allies had made a major push into Belka and that the war is coming towards conclusion. I'm happy that you may be coming home after all these months of being worried. Getting away from this war, Kari is on her way to third grade now. She misses you a lot and waits for the day her uncle returns. As for Kai, he's been promoted and is doing work on more important computer systems. He even told us that they're going to begin work on a collaboration with Yuktobania called "Project Arkbird". But now I have to stray to another, more serious subject. It's hard for me to ask this, but I can't let it sit inside me any longer. After this war, would you be willing to quit the navy? Please at least consider it, for my sake. This single deployment has caused me more distress than anything. I won't leave you if you say no, but just don't toss it aside._

_ Love,_

_May_

Ryan noticed the few dried tear drops that dotted the lower half of the letter. May was serious about the question. He'd always sort of feared, from the first day he really started to want to be more than friends, that this might happen. At the very least she was being rational. Ryan had heard of pilots' wives who left them because they flew and wouldn't leave, even for their loved ones. He folded and stored the letter, in need of fresh air.

Much to his silent relief, Vulture's Row was empty right now. He watched as the sun slipped below the horizon. Above, the carrier's lights were flickering to life. He looked over and stared at a trio of Tomcats sitting on the stern of the ship. He remembered the first time he saw that plane. It was then, and even still, perhaps the most sought after position in Osea's Navy. And now, Ryan Bradford had to consider giving that up.

And I've wanted this all my life, he thought, to fly! He'd wanted to since he'd first seen a jet. But should he be holding a childhood dream over the girl he loved? That was a dicey way of thinking, even if it wasn't intentional. Ryan starred back down at the F-14s and shook his head. Why did she have to ask that now? Just then Ryan heard the hatch come open and noticed Walker emerging into the open air. Ryan came to attention and saluted him.

"At ease son." Walker allowed, returning the motion.

Ryan went back to what he was doing while Walker lit up a cigarette. He set it between his lips and then let out a long puff of smoke. As he did so he noticed Ryan sort of spacing out.

"Why the long face son?" he drawled. Ryan looked at him.

"Ah Skipper you don't need to hear my bitching." Ryan said.

"I'm married, try me." Walker said with a grin.

"My girlfriend, May. You know her right sir?" Ryan began with a long breath. The commander nodded.

"She's asking me to consider quitting when we get back." Ryan explained. He'd thought about having this conversation with the chaplain, but Walker was just as good if not better.

"I see, not the first time I've heard this." The man admitted. He took another pull of tobacco before responding to Ryan's problem.

"Well she picked a hell of a time to ask." Walker observed. Ryan nodded in agreement.

"It's up to y'all however. She doesn't strap into the cockpit or have to put yer plane on the carrier after a hop. Y'all are the one that flies, understand?" Walker began. Ryan nodded.

"Yes sir."

"But that doesn't mean her opinion isn't important. She has to sit home and wait for you to come home and pray that she doesn't get a visit from me and a chaplain that begins with the words "We regret to inform you". I can understand where she's coming from though, I can personally say war is shit, all of it. To Hollywood it's filled with heroism and adventure and all that other romantic bullshit, but y'all and I both know it's not." Walker went on. He dropped his cigarette and stomped it out.

"Now don't go saying no bluntly, but remember that you have the final say. If y'all say yes, than that's that…but if y'all say no, then make sure she knows damn well why y'all said It." his commander finished.

"Understand?" he asked. Ryan nodded.

"Yes sir." He said…

"Do you guys still have any rings?" Ryan asked the sailor behind the counter. The man, actually boy, of about twenty looked up at him.

"I believe we do sir." He nodded.

"Well let me see em, and I'll have a chocolate bar too." Ryan said.

he bought a single gold ring and took it back to his stateroom. Tom was laying on his bed, getting some rest before the next flight.

"Hey." He said as he noticed Ryan.

"Hey Bull." Ryan replied. He sat down and examined the ring, tossing his candy bar's wrapper into the trash can.

"What's that?" the muscular pilot asked, sitting up and looking closely at the ring.

"I'm gonna marry May when I get back." Ryan announced to his friend. Tom's jaw fell open a moment, then suddenly, he grinned widely.

"About time you said that Rocky." Tom commented. Ryan looked at him and grinned back. Tom held out a hand and Ryan gave him the ring to look at.

"So why right now?" Tom asked, holding up the jewelry against the light overhead. Ryan shrugged.

"The war I guess, puts things in perspective you know?" Ryan said. Tom nodded. He held out the ring. Ryan took it and put it in his safe, still listening

"Ain't that the truth." Tom said, his voice quieting. He looked at the ground.

"Kinda makes me regret some of the stuff I've done…" he went on.

Tom had been notorious for his antics usually involving alcohol and women. Ryan had had the personal inconvenience of bailing him out of the shore patrols custody on more than one occasion. But when the war got going Ryan often found the surf-rat from the west coast talking to the chaplain.

"…I think I'm gonna follow in your footsteps, and find myself a girl. Not for just some passionate one-night stand, but a real girl I can call my own." Tom said.

"Hey, go for it. I think it's a good turn for you." Ryan agreed.

"Yeah, it's just, you know, before this we were kings. We ruled the sky, in our minds anyways, and were the elite. Tomcat pilots! Now that doesn't mean a thing." Tom almost laughed. All pilots were known (in varying degrees) for their braggadocio and pride in what they flew, be it a fighter or a transport plane. It wasn't a bad thing, as it often made the camaraderie stronger, unless it went to your head.

"Thanks man for watching my back this whole time." Tom said, straying from the subject of love. He held out a hand and Ryan shook it.

"Thanks to you too man, I'm sure May will say the same." Ryan replied.

"Maybe it'll make up for the time I took you away from her cause I was drunk and needed to get back to the BOQ." Tom grinned. Ryan threw back his head and laughed.

"Don't get your hopes up _too_ much." Ryan said…

May sat on the back porch, hugging her legs as she sat on the rattan couch. Next to her in a chair of the same material. She was thinking about the last letter she'd sent to Ryan, and considering how he might respond.

After what had seemed like an eternal silence, Sarah looked at her and spoke up.

"Are you sure it was a good idea to ask him that?" Ryan's sister said. May looked at her and nodded.

"You know I've always been worried about…" she replied.

"But you know he wanted to do it since the day you met him May. You never said a word about it. Even when you fell in love with him and began to get worried." Sarah pointed out. May nodded slightly.

That really hit home. She had harbored those feelings secretly since Ryan Bradford became more than just her friend. And she didn't let him know about them until it was too late. She felt guilty and stupid for that.

"Listen, I don't want to sit here and berate you about this all day, so I'll get to the point quicker." Sarah continued. May let go of her legs and slid them down to the patio.

"What would that be?" she asked, pushing up her glasses.

"Don't ask him to leave right now, but support him. He needs you to stand firm and be tough for him. Think how much it would help if you told him you were behind him 100% instead of worrying all the time. Get what I'm saying?" Sarah explained. May nodded slowly, then smiled a little.

"But what about…" she began. Sarah smiled knowingly.

"Just apologize, I'm sure he'll understand it was out of love and concern May." The blonde answered.

May stood up and nodded.

"Thanks Sarah."…

For once Ryan was glad VF-34 was getting all the glory when he learned they'd be flying the strike while VF-115 was on alert/BARCAP duty. The Skulls meanwhile would be launching to help protect a B-52 raid on the industrial city of Suddentor. It was interesting that the big bomber was being used on what was supposed to be a precision raid, something usually carried out by F-16s or F/A-18s with smart bombs. Ah, that's the higher ups' problem he thought.

Ryan was put on the first alert with Ripper. It was there that he wrote his response to May, keeping well in mind what his commander had told him.


	10. Chapter 9: It's a Mad, Mad World

_Chp 9: It's a Mad, Mad World_

"…For courage and maintaining your calm under fire Lt. Ryan Bradford and Lieutenant Takeru Hinamoto, you are both hereby awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for your actions in assisting the destruction of Excalibur." Captain Grey finished.

Ryan felt the medal being pinned on his short sleeve dress whites. In the tempo of operations had belayed the awards, but Ryan wasn't one to complain about it. He sort of wished that his dad would be able to hear about it though.

"Thank you sir!" they both saluted.

"Dismissed." Grey said, returning the gesture…

Ryan looked at the TARPS image that had been given to the squadron for their next sortie. It showed the airfield responsible for covering CVW-5's next target: the city of Freizdein. They'd be providing cover for a flight of A-6s going after the field and its assets. They'd also be working in conjunction with a force of Osean F-15s and F-16s tasked with destroying industrial facilities in the city.

"Looks like MiG-31s to me, they must be keeping em near the facilities since we tend to use B-52s now, the Foxhound is the best choice to intercept them." Samurai pointed out.

"What about defense against smaller jets? Fighters?" Razor asked, looking over Ryan's shoulder. Samurai pointed to four jets even closer to the runway.

"These Mirage 2000s." he answered. Tom looked at the picture too, one of the runways in his hands.

"Which means Magics." Samurai added.

"Well we should be able to give em more than enough Phoenixes to get in close and maneuver for Sidewinder shots, have the F-15s box them in." Walker said. He laid down his photo and looked at the others.

"We do this boys, we can start thinking about home." He said, relief in even his voice…

It was a cloudy sky that day as the #2 catapult slung Tomcat 105 down the track. But even that couldn't deter Ryan. Victory was close at hand and everyone knew it. That made the competition for air-to-air kills a little fiercer. The F-14s, being purebred fighters and often on escort, had downed the most MiGs and Mirages, while the Hornet squadrons got some, but not as many kills.

"Did you send the letter to May?" Razor asked as they formed up with the other escorts. Ryan glanced back at his friend.

"Yeah, as soon as we were done on alert duty." The pilot answered.

He adjusted himself a little and slid up his visor.

"I almost forgot, how's Miko doing?" Ryan spoke up.

"Since the last letter? Five months and I'm gonna be a dad." The RIO explained. Ryan grinned under his O2 mask.

"Boy or girl?" He asked.

"Girl, we're gonna name her Kotone." Razor replied. Ryan grinned.

"Congrats." He said, not for the first time.

15 miles away from the coast the F-14s spilt into three pairs and fired up their radars. SAMs were sporadic along the coast after weeks of being hunted and whittled down. the ECM beeped here and there, but nothing came up. It was a far cry from the first strike Ryan and Razor had flown. The Prowlers accompanying the strike were almost unnecessary at this point.

Freizdein sat about 50 miles from what was the border of North Belka, and what had originally been the country's border. The South had been annexed in the late 1800s.

"Firebird 101, this is Hammerhead, standby for relay to Viking 1-1." The mission's E-2 radioed.

"Roger that." Walker replied. There was a minute before the radio came back to life.

"Firebird 101 this is Viking 1-1, lead plane of Osean AF strike package. We're approaching target, estimated time…ten minutes…" another voice said.

"Roger 1-1, we're about the same. See you there." Walker replied.

Ryan subconsciously touched the master arm to reassure himself he hadn't forgotten anything. He felt especially nervous on this strike, fearful that he might be shot down or killed when he was so close to the end.

"All flights on this net, switch to Channel 12 for priority message."

Ryan flinched, even though the words had yet to fully be received. He turned the knob and waited.

"Go for Firebird Flight on Channel 12." Walker said.

"All flights on this channel, we have a stage 1 alert. HQ has confirmed flights of Belkan bombers equipped with nuclear weapons are airborne, repeat, we have nuclear equipped bombers in the air." a commanding voice warned. It repeated the warning after a brief pause.

"Firebird Flight, switch back to normal channel." Walker ordered in a serious, no nonsense voice. Ryan turned the knob back again.

"Heart Flight, get heading north towards the carrier. Mission has changed, repeat, mission has changed. You boys get outta dodge now." Walker was ordering.

"What about us sir?" one of the Prowler pilots asked.

"You boys too, give those Intruders as much ECM as you can, we're needed elsewhere." Walker replied.

Ryan saw the A-6s turning in a coordinated formation. The EA-6s did the same just below. He'd already selected his AIM-54s and Razor was ready to set up a shot.

"Viking 1-1, you boys still with us?" Walker asked.

"Roger Firebird, we've sent out strikers back home and are looking for the nearest formation." The F-15's leader replied.

"Firebird, this is Hammerhead, we've got a formation of contacts in your vicinity heading southeast on vector 155, angels 11. looks like they're doing around Mach 1." The E-2 relayed.

"Understood, Firebirds, y'all boys get yer Phoenixes ready. Concentrate on large contacts, any escorts can take a number." Walker ordered.

The six F-14s went to wall formation, radars sending their invisible waves across the sky in search of the formation. Neither Ryan nor Razor uttered a word until the ECM began beeping.

"Formation spotted, yup, they're going the same heading as the one Hammerhead called out." Razor said.

"Roger, get em locked and let's get these 54s after em." Ryan replied, tightening his shoulder straps.

Razor's hands began to move as Ryan let the drop tanks go. Razor watched as a formation of green dots appeared, heading away from the Tomcats. He looked up at the HUD and started seeing green boxes appearing.

"Razor?" the pilot asked. He hit the throttle and the wings went sweeping back.

"Going for full lock…tone's going steady…it's locked!" Razor called.

Ryan pushed down the launch button and shot off two AIM-54s at a pair of Tu-22M Backfires. It was a mirror of the first day.

"Firebird 105, Fox 3!" He called.

"Firebird flight be advised, we're approaching the formation at its nine o' clock." The lead F-15 called.

"Roger that Viking." Walker called as he let loose two of his AIM-54s.

"First one's hit em." Razor called.

"Second one?" Ryan asked.

"Guy got off chaff." Razor reported.

"All jets we need to hit those bombers before they can go supersonic." Walker drawled as the F-14s roared across the sky in full afterburner.

"Firebird we'll try and tie up the escorts, you go for those bombers." The lead F-15 said.

Ryan fired his other two Phoenixes at the Backfire that had avoided his first shot. In closer, he saw them uppercut the jet.

"Hammerhead, anything about these bombers' weapons being armed?" Ryan asked.

"Negative Firebird 105." The E-2 replied, the controller's tone suggesting he was busy supporting the battle.

Ryan gulped hard. They would have to do some fast climbing if they were carrying armed nukes.

The initial attack had scattered the formation. The large jets were scattered about the piece of sky, some trying to regain a formation, others just trying to outrun the marauding Oseans.

Ryan eased back the throttles as he flew through the middle of the chaos. The F-15s had already jumped on the Belkans and were wasting no time. Ryan spotted a pair of Mirage F.1s below the fight looking to ambush. Ryan went for them, cannon armed.

The Mirages spilt up as 20mm tracers came down from above. Ryan went after the lead guy, going to his Sidewinders. He saw an F-15 coming in for them two.

"That lead guy's mine." Ryan called out.

"Roger that." The Eagle pilot said.

the Mirages, aware now of the Osean jets, spilt formation. Razor kept an eye on their folly as it broke into the attack. The Mirage was about as agile as an F-15, so Ryan knew what he was dealing with. The only problem was its "Magic" air-to-air missiles, which like his Sidewinders were all-aspect weapons.

"You got him Razor?" Ryan asked as he broke right and looked up.

"Roger, he's going vertical, trying to get into our blind spot at the Sun." the RIO said as he tracked the Belkan.

Ryan made a charge at his opponent along his three o clock. He shot off his port AIM-9 as soon as he got lock. the Belkan replied with flares. Ryan frowned as the missile took the bait.

The Mirage pilot then turned into the attack and went over his canopy. Razor went from the left side to the right faster than ever.

The Mirage made a quick reverse and slowed his descent as he came back towards Ryan, easing onto the Tomcat's six o clock.

The Belkan pilot, having seen the ten markings on the Tomcat's forward fuselage, wanted to make his kill worth-while. He selected his twin 30mm DEFA cannon and let out a burst.

Ryan watched as large tracer flashes zoomed past his jet. He rolled inverted and to the right. The Mirage stopped shooting and turned after him.

"I don't know about you Razor but I've had enough of this shit." Ryan growled.

"Roger that." Razor agreed.

Ryan waited until the Mirage was coming to the end of its turn and made a quick reversal, throttles coming back as he did so. The Belkan went to react, but had too much energy. He overshot. Once again Ryan was after him as the Belkan pulled back and made a belly-up dive towards the ground. Ryan had to zap this guy quick, he was needed to help fight the bombers.

Ryan rolled so he was right side up and lowered is nose to give the AIM-9 a full view of his target. The TD box came up and the AIM-9 started searching. The Mirage came right side up and veered out of the way of the ground. Ryan brought back the throttles even more. The F-14's wings extended all the way, showing why some pilots had nicknamed it "Turkey". His air speed read 190. Come on, Ryan coaxed the missile…

That sweet growling noise came. Ryan depressed the trigger and fired.

"Firebird 105, Fox 2!"

The weapon went from the rail to shoving itself up the Mirage's tailpipe. The back end of the fighter was ripped off. Ryan went under the explosion to avoid sucking in debris.

"Hammerhead, reaffirm number of bombers airborne." Walker called.

"Firebird 105, we still have six in the air." the E-2 reported.

"They must have a whole squadron up!" Tom spat.

"Viking 1-1 here we'll try and chase the escorts further away but I'm not making any promises." The lead F-15 radioed.

Ryan came level and went to his two Sparrows. Above he could see the remaining Tu-22s at the mercy of the F-14s. some were increasing speed in hopes of outrunning the jets, but with their escorts tied up that was a scant hope. As Razor set the radar to Single Target Track, the radio came to life.

"Attention Osean pilots, this is the South Belkan 228th interceptor squadron. We are here to _help_, repeat, we are here to help." A voice said. before a response could be uttered, the voice continued.

"We are on approach from vector 207 at angels 15. We repeat, we are here to assist."

Ryan was silent as he got lock. the pilot depressed his launch button and sent the two AIM-7s off at a Backfire going supersonic. It skewered the jet behind its cockpit, sending the front section sailing forward as the back fell away.

"I don't trust this guy Skipper…" Tom declared.

"Me neither Bull…" Walker agreed.

"We can assure you Osean fighters, we mean no harm." The Belkan insisted.

Ryan flew past the downed bomber and looked at the vector they were coming from. He saw about fourteen dots appear and recognized the shapes of MiG-31 Foxhounds.

"All Sirens, weapons free." The lead Belkan said.

The closest MiGs sent off a volley of AA-9s. Ryan listened for a missile warning, but saw and heard nothing.

The volley came streaking across the sky and swarmed the Tu-22s.

"All jets clear the bomber formation!" Walker ordered.

The Tomcats scattered as the bombers were cut to ribbons by their own fighters.

"Jeez! If you're gonna help, give us some damn warning!" Tom exclaimed as he barely escaped the destruction of one of the Backfires.

"We apologize, just trying to help." The lead Belkan said.

"The help is appreciated either way." Walker said.

Ryan went leveled as the MiGs passed underneath. Tom, still carrying his AIM-9s and two AIM-54s, came up alongside him.

"For once I'm actually glad to see Belkans." He said with his lights.

"Same here." Ryan said back the same way.

"Viking, what's the status on those bandits?" Walker asked.

"Well Anywho, Hammerhead, bomber group has been confirmed down. We're gonna head back north, we need fuel and ammo, how copy?" Walker called.

"Roger that Firebird you are cleared to…"

The radio went to static. Ryan saw a bright flash of light to the south. Despite his visor, the pilot shielded his eyes as it practically blinded him. Oh no, Excalibur was back he thought, his mind unprepared for a sudden death. But the light faded harmlessly. Suddenly there was a massive explosion. The F-14 rattled violently and the radio let out a loud screech.

"Radar just went out!" Razor shouted.

"Screw the radar," Ryan replied "what was th-"

"Holy shit!" Razor gasped.

Ryan looked towards the source of the light and saw a mushroom cloud reaching for the heavens. Suddenly the radio came to life.

"Hammerhead we… nuclear detonat…confirm!" They heard Walker say in broken transmissions. The radio frequency was static filled.

"Roger, stan…confirmation." The E-2 replied.

"All Fire….get ou…head North, now!" their commander ordered.

Ryan banked left, Tom right next to him. The radio came to life

"Atten… Allied Forces….Belka shall not….it is out holylan…and we shall…martyr's death for Bel…"

"Fuckin psychos." Razor muttered.

"It's a new war now…" Tom observed, more to himself than the others…

"They really did it…" the man known as Wolfgang Bucher said in disbelief.

"Is that why you ran?" the other man, a young Osean F-14 pilot named Jack Bartlett, asked.

"Yeah, and now you can see why Belka's leader are too powerful for their own good. If only more had seen that sooner." Wolfgang replied.

They'd been walking for three days now. His radio and compass had been rendered useless by the magnetic anomalies of B7R. Wolfgang had almost been killed by the young man, but luckily a sprained ankle allowed the Belkan to convince his "enemy" he meant no harm.

Wolfgang Bucher had been ordered to drop one of the weapons that had detonated, but he refused and ran. His commanders, angry one of their aces was fleeing, ordered a man named Zhukov and his team of MiG-31s after the traitor. It had been luck that he'd run into the famed "Demon Lord" over the Round Table and survived having his MiG-21 blown from the sky.

The Belkan turned and looked at Jack. The younger man's face was frozen, and the Osean was unsure what emotion to express at the sight.

"Take a good look at that son, and hope that tells your leaders that peace needs be obtained faster." Wolfgang said.

"Yeah, anywho let's get moving, Allied Lines should be another day's walk." He said.

"By the way, I didn't catch your name." Jack said as they continued on.

"Wolfgang…but I think If I'm gonna defect I'll need a more appropriate moniker." The Belkan said. Jack looked at him.

"You Allies tend to show a lot of resentment for us Belkans." Wolfgang added. Well just look at the mushroom cloud again Jack thought. He looked at the man's face and tried to think of a name.

"Well, if you ask me I'd say you look like a Peter more than anything else…" the Osean replied.

"Peter hmm?" Wolfgang said, looking up. It didn't sound half bad.


	11. Chapter 10: Homecoming

_Chp. 10: Homecoming_

The Air Force ground crew watched as the Navy F-14 Tomcat came towards the runway, wings fully extended. It was a much different sight many thought, and the Tomcat had a rather charismatic look to it.

Ryan, for once, had never been so glad to have had too little fuel to get back to the carrier. He was still shaky from the nuclear explosions. He quietly taxied off the runway and was placed in an extra revetment.

"Welcome to San Soto sir." An Air Force Crew Chief, the equivalent of a plane captain, said as the canopy came up.

"Yeah, thanks." Ryan replied nonchalantly.

"Got any phones here?" the pilot asked. The man nodded and went down the steps as Ryan followed after.

"I'll be back in a few Razor." He called up to the RIO.

"Where you going?" Razor asked.

"Phone, I'll be back." Ryan assured.

He took off his helmet and walked across the tarmac, where about two dozen Osean A-10s and F-16s sat on the pavement, bathing in the dim afternoon sun. He found the phones inside one of the support buildings. He had about 300 dollars in case he was shot down and needed to get out of a tight spot (he was sure a Belkan grunt wouldn't mind being quiet in exchange for a little extra cash). He took one of the twenty dollar bills, and after a few exchanges, fed two dollars' worth of quarters into the machine.

"Yes, I'd like to make a long-distance call to Fairemont Osea." He replied to the operator's greeting. He glanced at his Rolex and was glad it was still in the morning back home…

May and Samantha were at the table, staring at the TV as it broadcast the footage of the evaporating mushroom clouds. Just then May felt her muscles tense. Please don't let it be what I think it might be, she thought. Samantha, knowing it would be best if she answered it, stood up and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?" she asked. As the person responded her eyes grew wide in surprise.

"Oh thank goodness it's you!" She exclaimed.

"Yes, yes she's right here Ryan. No it's fine, I want you to talk to her first." Samantha nodded. May sprang to her feet and Samantha held out the phone. The brunette took it in her hand and put the receiver to her ear.

"Ryan?" she asked.

"Yeah May, it's me."

"How did you get to a phone?" May asked, her hand flew to her mouth.

"Please tell me you're not calling me from a hospital bed!" she almost cried.

"No your flyboy's just fine. I had too little fuel and had to land at a base in Sapin. There's not a scratch on me." Ryan assured.

"Good…" May replied, gently pushing away a few tears.

"Ryan…it really happened didn't it? the nukes…" May asked. She'd seen the news, almost every channel had been broadcasting it. even the police had asked that civilians stay inside their homes. May was scared.

"It did…" Ryan replied. He wished he could hold her while he said it, tell her she'd be okay and that he would protect her. May shuddered and leaned against the wall.

"Ryan…" she began. Her voice was cracking a bit.

"I know May, I wish I could be there right now, I know you need me and…I really need you." Ryan replied.

May took in a deep breath. No more being the always worried lover on the home front. She needed to be tough for him so he'd be confident.

"Whatever happens, I believe in you. I know you'll survive Ryan." she said. Ryan was surprised. It was a rather unusual statement.

"I shouldn't have asked you to leave Ryan…I just, miss you so damn much." May replied.

"I love you." She said.

"I love you too." Ryan replied. He smiled.

"Thanks for putting up with me for so long May, I really have you to thank for that." He said. May laughed.

"Trust me, it wasn't easy sometimes flyboy." She replied…

There was a grim little reminder about one of the carrier battle group's many jobs during wartime. Two A-6s sitting next to the island, each with two white bombs under each wing reminded Ryan and Razor of that job as they were directed out of the way of the landing area. He'd very rarely seen the thing outside a museum, but those were just mock ups; fakes. Those were the real things: B61 tactical nuclear weapons.

"Think we'll have to use those?" Ryan asked as the canopy came up and the elevator brought the plane to the hangar deck.

"I don't wanna know man, I don't wanna know." Razor shivered. Ryan nodded in agreement.

They left the aircraft to Washington and walked to the ready room. Walker had been informed of their arrival and was present to debrief them. They came to attention and saluted. Walker returned the gesture.

"Glad to have y'all back." he nodded.

They sat and Walker took in a deep breath.

"I'll be direct boys; we have just witnessed one of the most insane acts of the twentieth century. I have been instructed to disclose that they've put seven nukes on their border, trying to close us out." Walker continued. Ryan frowned. Crazy-ass Belkans.

"That's all we've been handed for now." The commander said.

He dismissed them to the locker room. Ryan let out a long breath as he put his helmet in his locker.

"This is some heavy stuff." Razor said.

"That my friend is the understatement of the year." Ryan replied as he took off his G-suit.

Once his stuff had been stored, Ryan left Razor and the locker room and went to the wardroom. It was empty for the most part, being a little after lunch for many of the pilots. Ryan got a hamburger and sat at the usual table. He ate slowly, sometimes only putting the sandwich to his mouth without even taking a bite. The doctor had chided pilots for not eating; saying if they got too underweight it would have consequences. Screw them, Ryan frowned, they don't know what it's like. They've never heard the ECM beep, watched a SAM go screaming by, or have to shout Fox 2 as they took down another plane, and possibly another person's life.

He managed to force down the burger and returned is plate, going to his stateroom. Tom was there.

"Hey, welcome back." he said with a tired grin.

"Thanks, I miss anything?" Ryan asked.

"Oh just the arming of a pair of Intruders with nukes. Admiral says we may be called to launch a counter attack." The taller pilot said.

"I saw them sitting on the deck near the island." Ryan replied. Tom sat back in the chair and let out a breath.

"Think this'll push the peace makers to get their asses in gear?" Ryan asked.

"If it doesn't God may have to step down from heaven and tell them himself. Seven nukes man, seven!" Tom replied, his voice rising with the last words. He looked at Ryan, still fired up.

"You heard that transmission too right, about North Belka being their holy land? That sounded like something a Middle Eastern terrorist would be spouting!" he went on.

"Easy Tom, easy!" Ryan said, seeing his friend was getting too energetic.

"How can I be, we just witness the fucking apocalypse! And for all we know the carriers are next!" Tom shouted. Before he could get any further, he suddenly collapsed.

"Bull?!" Ryan asked. He knelt down and saw that he was still breathing. Okay at least he was alive. Ryan opened the door and began to drag him towards it, shouting for a corpsman. A younger sailor saw him.

"Get a corpsman dammit!" Ryan ordered. The young man nodded and took off back down the hall.

Ryan got Tom into the hallway after five minutes of grunting and straining. By then a pair of marines from the security force had come along with a corpsman. Tom was put in a stretcher and taken to the sick bay…

After three days Tom was back up and running. It had been found that he was simply over exhausted, and traumatized by the events of June 6th. He came back as if nothing had ever happened. Ryan was glad about that though, guessing his ability to move on came from the one night stand relationships that he'd had off and on the past few years.

Belka had crumbled after they'd dropped those seven bombs. Ryan and the rest of VF-115 found that the MiGs now either stayed on the ground (only to be hit by an LGB) or ran as soon as they picked up Allied fighters and vice versa. MiG-29s became a rare species, replaced by older and less capable MiG-21s or the MiG-23 Flogger, a jet which behaved much like an F-4 Phantom (being slow in turns mainly). Sometimes eager pilots would go after the MiGs, scoring one or two kills. These were usually F/A-18 pilots, who'd seen much of the war (with a few exceptions) dropping bombs and shooting anti-radiation missiles. Others were F-14 pilots who wanted to add to the kill score.

South Belka had begun to also fold, and the Allies were all too happy to help. They handed over scores of ex-Belkan stuff, being given the promise it would be helped. Meanwhile the north simply sulked behind its nuclear barrier. Then came the one day all had waited for but never knew when it would come…

"Attention on deck!"

the pilots and NFOs in the wardroom dropped their meals and came to the ordered stance as CAG walked in. he stopped and looked over the others before giving the command "As you were."

Everyone sat down and fixed their eyes on CAG as he stood in the middle of the room. Ryan was half expecting orders for a nuclear strike. Two weeks after though, he thought, that's a long time to order something.

"Gentlemen, I am very pleased to announce that today at 1630 our time, a cease fire has been declared. We are being relieved by the carrier Vulture, and heading home. The war is over!" he said, his taught and square face becoming a grin.

A roar of cheers wasted no time in erupting. Hand went up and shouts of "Alright!" and "We won!" echoed underneath the sound.

After the crowd dispersed, Ryan went to the hangar deck to tell Washington. The young man was working on Ryan and Razor (and his) Tomcat when the pilot came running up.

"Wash! We won, it's over, the war is over!" He shouted.

"You're serious Mister Bradford?" the African American replied, his eyes wide.

"You bet you ass I am!" Ryan replied, as fiery as a soccer coach whose team had just won the World Cup. The maintenance crew began to hoot and howl themselves. In due time they'd all see their families…

"There she is." Tom called out with audible happiness.

The mass formation of F-14s flew in at about 8000 feet over the coast, going northwest towards Altaria. Ryan glanced down beyond the clouds at the green below. It had never looked so beautiful, so untouched by war or hate.

"Okay boys, let's let em know we're home." Walker said.

On the ground, May watched, fighting back her tears, as the 48 Tomcats came screaming over. Cheers and shouts went up at the fighters from family and friends.

"Which one's Uncle Ryan?" Kari asked.

"I can't tell from here, but he's in one of them." Kai replied.

May waited patiently as they went through the process of landing in twos. The planes spilt into respective squadrons, VF-34 going to the right and VF-115 to the left. The brunette squinted her eyes and spotted F-14 number 105 rolling along towards a parking spot. It stopped and the canopy rose a minute later.

"There he is Kari." May said, pointing towards the jet.

"He's home! Uncle Ryan's home!" Kari gushed, beginning to cry.

May felt herself getting stir crazy as she watched Ryan come down the ladder. Come on, let me see him, let me see him she thought. The second all the engines were down and the barrier removed, May pushed herself forward, loosing her heels as she did.

Kari began to run, but Sarah stopped her.

"Let's let Ryan be with May a few minutes first." She whispered, knowing what Ryan had planned.

Ryan took off his helmet and straightened his sweaty blonde hair.

"I'm tempted to kiss the ground." Razor said.

"Yeah, me too." Ryan agreed.

As he and Razor left the jet and walked down the space between the jets, a proverbial weight lifted up and off their shoulders. They'd done their job, done their time, and come home safe.

"Ryan!"

the pilot saw May running towards him as fast as she could. He dropped his helmet and took off towards her.

She leapt at him and he caught her. Without a second of hesitation May kissed him longingly, putting her arms around her pilot. Thankful tears came down her face.

"I love you so damn much Ryan." She said when she finally pulled away. Ryan smiled.

"I love you too May, enough that I need to do this now or I'll go crazy." Ryan replied.

He set her down and reached into his flight suit pocket.

"May Bridger…" he began, taking a knee, still in full gear, and holding out the ring. May covered her mouth, unable to control her smile. Ryan took in a breath.

"…Will you marry me?" he asked.


End file.
